Brother Where You Bound
by Aini NuFire
Summary: AU 5x19 Instead of killing Gabriel, Lucifer merely wounds him and takes him prisoner. The Devil claims he only wants to protect his brother, which Gabriel isn't buying. He should focus on escaping, but there's another captive he just can't leave behind…
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first fic without the Winchesters. 0_o But it's got Gabriel and Cas. And Lucifer. So hopefully you'll all like it just as well. Btw, thank you guests KAL, Paththatsclear, and just 'Guest' for reading and reviewing "Watch Over Me." :) And shoutout to 29piecesofme for beta reading and helping me brainstorm through some plot points.**

 **Disclaimer: Alas,** ** _Supernatural_** **is not mine. And lines for the first part of this chapter come directly from the episode, "Hammer of the Gods."**

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

 _"Oh, brothers! I don't care for brothers. My elder brother won't die, and my younger brothers seem never to do anything else."  
_ _– Oscar Wilde_

* * *

"Lucy, I'm home."

Lucifer rolled his shoulder, expression livid from having to pick himself up off the floor. With a deepening glower, he stormed back into the room.

Gabriel stepped forward, lifting his angel blade. "Not this time."

Lucifer hesitated, and Gabriel took the moment to glance back at Kali as he gripped her arm and hauled her up. She clung to him, maybe because she was weakened, maybe because she was grateful he'd come back. Not that it mattered, for Gabriel wasn't all that confident he'd see her again after tonight.

"Guys," he called.

The Winchesters scrambled out from behind the fallen table. Gabriel sidestepped to keep himself between them and Lucifer, reluctantly withdrawing his arm from around Kali's waist as he transferred her to the brothers' care. "Get her outta here."

Lucifer held his palms up in a fake nonthreatening gesture. "Over a girl," he sighed. "Gabriel, really?"

He only half paid attention until the Winchesters and Kali had exited the banquet room. She'd be safe, and while that may not have meant much in the grand scheme of things, it meant something to him.

"I mean, I knew you were slumming, but…" Lucifer's face crinkled, and he waggled his fingers in apparent disgust. Which was just ridiculous, coming from him, since one hand was slick with blood and his face was molting. "I hope you didn't catch anything."

Gabriel shook his head. "Lucifer, you're my brother and I love you."

The archangel relaxed his stance, yet Gabriel wasn't done.

"But you are a great big bag of dicks."

Lucifer's brow furrowed. "What did you just say to me?"

 _You heard me_ , Gabriel mentally smirked. Standing up to his brother had been a long time coming.

Lucifer started forward, and Gabriel raised his blade again in warning.

"Look at yourself. Boo hoo! Daddy was mean to me, so I'm gonna smash up all his toys."

"Watch your tone." Lucifer's voice was low, almost mild, but Gabriel heard the threat behind it. It wasn't that he was scared of Lucifer; hell, he wasn't even intimidated, not like some of the other angels were, not like Raphael was who covered it up with his own haughtiness over lower angels. But Gabriel had never challenged his older brother, partly out of deference, partly because he just didn't like _conflict_. And that meant Luci underestimated him.

"Play the victim all you want," he barreled on. "But you and me? We know the truth." He paused. "Dad loved you best." There, he'd said it. The big fat elephant in Heaven had now been spoken after millennia. It hurt to say it aloud. But, then, it'd always hurt.

"More than Michael, more than me," Gabriel continued sadly. "Then he brought the new baby home and you couldn't handle it. So this is all just one big temper tantrum."

Lucifer smirked disdainfully at first, but there was a flash of something dark in his eyes.

Gabriel pointed his blade at him. "Time to grow up."

"Gabriel, if you're doing this for Michael—"

"Screw him." _In fact…_ "If he were standing here, I'd shiv his ass too."

Lucifer let out a sound of disbelief, and shook his finger at him. "You disloyal—"

"Oh, I'm loyal," Gabriel interrupted. And, seriously, he was gonna get a lecture on devotion from _Lucifer_? Hell, no. They began to circle each other. "To them."

"Who?" Lucifer asked. "These so-called 'gods'?" His tone dripped with disparagement, and yeah, these pagans weren't on the same playing field as angels, but Gabriel had grown fond of most of them. They were his homies. But no, that wasn't who he'd meant, much to his chagrined surprise.

"To people, Lucifer."

His brother shook his head, obviously unimpressed.

"People," he repeated, not just to emphasize it for Lucifer, but because the revelation seemed so simple and right after all of his resistance, that Gabriel couldn't help saying it again for himself.

"So you're willing to _die_ , for a pile of cockroaches. Why?" Lucifer countered blithely, as though he doubted Gabriel's conviction. Heck, Gabriel hadn't been certain of his own conviction until this moment. Strange how clarity could come in the midst of facing one's own demise.

"Because Dad was right. They are better than us."

Lucifer leaned forward earnestly, his cavalier exterior finally breaking. "They are _broken_. Flawed. Abortions!"

"Damn right they're flawed," Gabriel replied, surprised at his own calmness. He'd lived among the mortals for centuries since fleeing Heaven, but had never really appreciated his Father's creations. Now he did. "But a lot of them try. To do better. To _forgive_." So much could be resolved if the four archangels could find it within themselves to do _that_.

Lucifer dropped his gaze. Perhaps Gabriel was getting through. Perhaps his brother was capable of seeing wisdom.

Of course, he couldn't quite keep his snark on a leash. "And you should see the Spearmint Rhino!"

Lucifer's eyes flicked up to his again, expression shrouded. Gabriel pressed on, knowing there was actually little chance of reasoning with his bumptious older brother, but he was only going to get one shot here, and had to time it right.

"I've been riding the pine a long time. But I'm in the game now, and I'm not on your side, or Michael's." Gabriel paused, and a flicker of a smile tugged at his mouth. This wasn't where he'd envisioned himself ending up, but it felt right. "I'm on theirs."

Lucifer didn't look at him, mind perhaps drawn inward in somber consideration. He gave a slight shake of his head. "Brother," he uttered. "Don't make me do this."

Gabriel responded with a sad head shrug. "No one makes us do anything." He was finally beginning to realize it. All this destiny crap was just that—a load of bullshit. And he didn't have to stand by and watch it happen.

Lucifer looked up, eyes uncharacteristically moist. "I know you think you're doing the right thing, Gabriel. But I know where your heart truly lies."

Gabriel's forehead creased. It was now or never.

Lucifer arched his brows and canted his head, as though he knew a secret.

Gabriel—the real Gabriel—inched closer from behind, angel blade arched back and prepared to strike. Just as he surged forward, Lucifer spun around, caught Gabriel's wrist, and drove the angel blade down and into Gabriel's own sternum. He gasped in surprise and crippling pain, pupils blowing wide in shock. His body swayed, and he latched a hand onto his brother's arm to hold himself up.

"Here," Lucifer whispered, holding the blade inches from Gabriel's heart. He cast a glance over his shoulder to where the mirage he'd been arguing with gave a helpless look before vanishing into vapor. Then he turned back and reached up to clasp the side of Gabriel's face as he choked. "Amateur hocus pocus. Don't forget, you learned all your tricks from me, little brother."

Gabriel's body shuddered, and he clutched desperately at Lucifer. He'd known in the back of his mind this was a strong possibility, and yet he still found himself terrified, his grace writhing in agony as the celestial blade lodged in his chest kept him on his wavering feet. He'd taken a stand for what he believed in, and gotten burned. This was why he'd avoided such lofty ideals.

His vision blurred. Lucifer gave the blade a sharp twist, and an explosion of blinding pain catapulted him into oblivion.

* * *

Gabriel knew there was no afterlife for angels. Though maybe a small part of him had hoped Dad had a secret place stashed away where the youngest archangel might find himself, or at the very least that the old man could be bothered to step between moments in time to say goodbye. After all, standing up to Lucifer had left Gabriel inspired to tell off a few more people before he bit the dust. So coming to, groggy and aching, was not at all what he'd been expecting.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, grimacing as pain lanced through his chest. Glancing down, he found his shirt unbuttoned, torso swathed in bandages. That was…weird. If he wasn't dead—and he hadn't fully disregarded that possibility yet—where the hell was he?

Focusing on his surroundings, Gabriel found himself lying on a king size bed with opulent maroon coverlets and a brass headboard. To his left was a cherry wood nightstand, followed by an armoire in the corner. Thick velvet drapes hung over a wide window, and a writing desk of the same wood sat against the opposite wall. A few potted plants around the spacious room stuck out, mostly because they were all browning and wilted.

Gabriel carefully sat the rest of the way up, grunting as the movement pulled his wound. He reached a heavy hand over to press against his chest, and froze at the silver manacle latched around his wrist. A quick glance showed a second on his other arm, though they weren't connected by a chain. Didn't matter, though, because there were angel binding sigils carved into the metal. He quickly patted himself down for his angel blade; zilch, no surprise there.

"We-ll," he drawled out loud, if only to break the eerie silence of being alone. "This is not good."

He gingerly peeled back the top of the bandages to examine his injuries. There was a partially healed stab wound between two ribs, the edges raw and inflamed, though not leaking grace. Gabriel frowned at the lack of healing. Wounds inflicted with an angel blade took longer to mend, but as he stared at the puncture, he realized it wasn't healing _at all_. Probably due to the shackles on his wrists tamping down his powers.

Odd, he thought, for the stab wound showed _some_ signs of healing, as though whoever had captured him had waited for him to recover just enough before snapping the power binding cuffs on him. How considerate. And Gabriel had a good idea who his captor/nursemaid was. He just didn't know _why_.

Shuffling off the bed with a wince, Gabriel limped to the window and pulled the curtains back. The view looked out on vast grounds, tall hedges lining a perimeter around a garden with pompous Greek statues and clusters of rose bushes. Beyond that lay sprawling vineyards. His wings flexed, the instinct to fly difficult to ignore. But he was momentarily clipped. He lifted his arms to examine the cuffs, and yanked at one experimentally. It didn't give under his super strength, go figure.

The door on the other side of the room creaked opened, and Gabriel tensed. He was vulnerable in this state, and it made him edgy.

Lucifer strode in, having changed out of his blood stained clothes from earlier. Too bad he couldn't change his vessel, because the leper look was really not a good one.

"Good, you're awake," the archangel said casually, as though he hadn't just stabbed Gabriel the last time they'd spoken. "I was growing concerned."

Gabriel couldn't help the scoff that escaped past his lips. "Yeah, right. You tried to kill me."

"But I didn't."

"Yeeah, don't take this as an invitation, but why not?" Honestly, that was the only thing he'd expected to come out of that encounter, aside from the slim chance _Gabriel_ managed to kill Lucifer first. This…he didn't know what to make of this turn of events.

Lucifer cocked a brow, as though it should have been obvious. "You're my brother." He took a step closer, dropping his voice an octave. "I grieved for you when Heaven thought you'd died."

Gabriel snorted. "I was at my own funeral; you weren't there."

Lucifer rolled his eyes in something akin to fond exasperation. Of course, it was easy to be smug when he had the upper hand. "Will you let me look at your wound?"

Gabriel stiffened. "No thanks."

"You look a bit unsteady, Gabriel. Let me work some more healing on it."

He wondered how long he'd been out to begin with. "Or I could do it myself." He lifted his shackled wrists and waggled his brows.

Lucifer pursed his mouth. "Sorry, but those are necessary."

"I prefer to be the dom if we're gonna play with bondage."

Lucifer just shook his head and began to pace the length of the room, admiring some of the fixtures. Gabriel's gaze slid to the door, but he didn't like his chances of running. The place was probably crawling with demons anyway. He'd need to find a way out of the cuffs first.

"Why couldn't you have just continued staying out of it like you always do?" Lucifer sighed.

Gabriel drew his shoulders back and glowered. "You were threatening my family." The pagan gods may not have been his brothers and sisters, but he'd grown to care for them, and didn't want to see them die.

Lucifer whirled to face him. " _I'm_ your family."

" _You_ _ruined_ our family!" he retorted, unable to contain himself. What was the worst Lucifer could do, kill him a second time? "All your fighting with Michael, your rebellion. Nothing was the same after you were cast out!"

Lucifer threw his arms out to the side. "Come on, Gabriel, you never bowed to Michael, either. Not like that sniveling weasel, Raphael. And you had just as much disdain for Father's filthy, mongrel creations." He shook his head in disgust. "Even now, you're not truly loyal to them. It's just a whim for you, Gabriel, like everything else."

Gabriel's jaw tightened. Just because he'd waffled for centuries on where he stood didn't mean his convictions were less than anyone else's. "Not this time."

Lucifer snorted and turned away. "I honestly don't know what's gotten into you."

"You and me both," Gabriel muttered under his breath, roving his eyes around his lavish prison. It wasn't his brother's usual, garish taste, and he wondered if Lucifer had chosen the location to appease Gabriel. "So what now?"

Lucifer arched a brow. "You're expecting me to torture you."

He shrugged; it had crossed his mind, though Lucifer tending to his wound had thrown off his expectations somewhat.

"On the contrary," Lucifer continued. "I'm going to keep you safe."

Gabriel's brows shot up. "Excuse me?"

Lucifer closed the distance between them, and Gabriel wished that he could have his angel blade as a deterrent again. His brother nodded to the sigiled manacles. "You only need to stay out of the way until the battle is over."

He snorted. "And if you lose?"

Lucifer's lips curved upward. "I won't."

"Riight. So I'm supposed to what, lounge around here watching TV?"

"If you prefer. But there is something I could use your help with."

Gabriel crossed his arms and replied snidely, "Remember I said I'm _not_ on your side here?"

Lucifer smirked. "I remember. No, this has nothing to do with the Apocalypse. But if you're sincere in your love for our family, I'd think you would show some interest in this."

He frowned. "In what?"

"Follow me." Lucifer turned and headed out the door. Gabriel hesitated only a moment before deciding _what the hell_ , and set off after him. He might as well get a layout of the place if he was going to plan an escape.

They didn't pass anyone in the halls, though Gabriel detected a whiff of sulfur on the air. There seemed to be a staircase at the other end of the corridor, but unfortunately, he wasn't going to get much of a look around, for Lucifer stopped at a room two doors down and opened it. He stood expectantly, waiting for Gabriel to go first. It rankled him to be treated subserviently, though it wasn't like he could do anything about it.

The room they entered was much the same as the one he'd woken in, save the color scheme was navy blue and there were two large bookcases instead of dying plants. Gabriel drew to an abrupt stop at the figure lying unconscious on the bed. _Castiel_.

He whipped his head around to give Lucifer a sharp look. What the hell was this?

Lucifer was watching him with a piercing gaze, scrutinizing, evaluating. "You probably know Castiel already. You always did associate with the lower angels back in Heaven."

"What did you do to him?" he snarled. Castiel was shirtless, his entire chest wrapped in a lot more bandages than Gabriel's was, and there were red stains seeping through in multiple places. He was sickly pale, as well, with a pallor that no angel should ever have.

Lucifer rolled his eyes indignantly. "I saved him, thank you very much. If I hadn't found him, he would've ended up dinner for some wolves. Or worse, if it'd been any other angel." He walked over to stand next to the bed, looking down at the unconscious form. "As for what happened to him, little Castiel has more pluck than I gave him credit for. He apparently carved an angel banishing sigil into his own chest and used it against Zachariah's minions." The corner of Lucifer's mouth curled up in what looked like admiration. "It made quite a bang that caught my attention."

Gabriel just stared in shock. Castiel did _what_? Was that his brilliant idea, or the idiot duo's? Gabriel suddenly regretted letting those two numbskulls escape the Elysian Fields hotel.

"And you brought him here…" he began dubiously.

Lucifer canted his head. "I'm not heartless, Gabriel. It's true, Castiel has stood against me, stood between me and Sam Winchester. But like you, he's merely misguided. I have hope that he'll come to see the light."

Gabriel gritted his teeth, knowing he was being grouped in there as well. "And if he doesn't?"

Lucifer quirked his mouth. "Then at least he can stay safely out of the way. Anyway, I have a lot of work to do, and Castiel's injuries are severe. I was hoping you would help look after him."

Gabriel's eyes widened; he honestly hadn't seen that coming. He didn't know what Lucifer's game was, and frankly, his time would be better spent trying to secure his own escape. But a glance down at his unconscious brother pulled at something in Gabriel's heart. Castiel had chosen humanity long before Gabriel had, and Gabriel might have given his younger brother a hard time in TV land, but they were on the same side now.

Besides, what else was he going to do?

"What, he doesn't get any accessories?" Gabriel asked glibly, jangling a manacled wrist; Castiel wasn't bound in such a fashion.

Lucifer shrugged one shoulder, and reached out his hand to hover over Castiel's chest. "Castiel's grace is all but nonexistent. Even if he manages to wake, he's hardly an angel anymore." Lucifer paused. "Unless he decides to join me, that is."

Gabriel swallowed, not liking the sound of either of those things. Unable to help himself, he inched closer to the bed and also held a hand over the lesser angel. Sure enough, Castiel's grace was barely a spark, and a sputtering one at that. Gabriel couldn't even be sure he'd _survive_ these injuries.

Lucifer straightened. "I'll be back to check on you later." He cast a cursory glance around the room. "I think you have everything you need for standard comforts. Additional first aid is in the bathroom." With a nod toward an adjoining door in the back corner, Lucifer then turned and left.

Gabriel looked down at his younger brother. Given their circumstances, it seemed they had both dived headlong into something they thought would end with their deaths. Oops, better luck next time.

"Well," he sighed. "We are in quite the pickle."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who's followed, favorited, and reviewed so far!**

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

 _"Blessed is the servant who loves his brother as much when he is sick and useless as when he is well and an be of service to him."  
_ _– St. Francis of Assisi_

* * *

Gabriel went first to the window, for it opened onto a balcony and he wasn't opposed to jumping if he needed to. It wasn't like he'd break a leg. But he pulled up short as he reached for the door handle, the power of invisible runes on the glass repelling him. Well, schizzlesticks. One would think Lucifer didn't trust him.

With a sigh, he turned back to his co-prisoner, as still as death on the bed. As nice as the thought of blowing this joint was, Gabriel couldn't actually bring himself to leave Castiel. He didn't know why Lucifer had bothered to save the lower angel, because Gabriel did not buy the 'I-love-my-family' farce. Maybe he wanted to use Castiel to get to the Winchesters, though Gabriel knew how futile _that_ would be. And it would not end well for the little angel.

His shook his head and returned to Castiel's bedside, eyeing the bandages critically. Another step Lucifer had taken that confused Gabriel. For himself, he figured Lucifer refrained from fully healing him to keep him at low power. A dick move, but logical.

Castiel, on the other hand, had so little power left, healing him would do little more than restore his vessel. Gabriel held his palm over Castiel's chest, extending his grace. It twinged against the sigiled cuffs keeping him bound, but he still managed to sweep his senses down past the visible and into the core of the problem. And he found it, to his horror. By carving the banishing sigil into himself and activating it, Castiel had nearly blown his true self into pieces. Ironically, it was his cut-off-from-Heaven state, which had anchored him more firmly to his vessel, that had saved him from being hurtled completely out of it to somewhere like Pluto. He was flayed and teetering on a precipice, but stubbornly still alive.

Gabriel had to admire that kind of tenacity.

"Though not your moronic willingness to throw yourself in front of a bus for Tweedledee and Tweedledum," he muttered, and ran a hand down his face. If he tried to push some of his grace into Castiel to heal him, he ran the risk of snuffing out the tiny spark clinging to existence. The wounds were still raw and throbbing with residual energy from the spell—not enough to trigger it again, but enough to react violently to any angelic presence pushing against it. Which meant Castiel couldn't be healed the easy way.

Like forcing his own grace to contort past the spelled manacles would be _easy_ , not to mention it'd weaken Gabriel further if he tried.

Yep, Lucifer had them right where he wanted them.

Gabriel's own wound throbbed dully, and he gingerly poked at the area around it. This lingering pain was…annoying. He was an archangel, for crying out loud, meant to be impervious to such things. Now he was stuck like this as his grace leaked into his vessel to sluggishly stitch muscle and tissue back together.

He went into the bathroom, arching a brow at the claw-foot tub and swan faucet. If he wasn't a prisoner here, he might have considered indulging in a bubble bath. Gabriel turned to a set of built-in shelves that were well-stocked with first aid supplies. Glancing down at his chest, he debated redoing Lucifer's work, if only out of spite. But, he decided, Castiel probably needed them more. So he scooped up an armful of gauze and antiseptic cream, and headed back out to the bedroom. He deposited everything on top of the mattress, then took a step back and crossed his arms. Hm, normally he would have snapped his fingers to accomplish this, but that wasn't an option at the moment.

"How degrading," he grumbled, resigning himself to the fact he would have to do this manually. "I hope you appreciate the lengths I'm going to here."

Castiel, predictably, did not respond.

"I hope the _Winchesters_ appreciate the lengths you go to," he continued muttering as he began to carefully peel back the blood stained bandages. Gabriel had seen a lot in his time, had even instigated gory violence that rent and tore at mortals and immortals alike, but the sight of the jagged lines carved into flesh still made his gorge rise into his throat. The deliberate cuts crisscrossed and intersected at crucial points to create the focal point of such a powerful spell, which still radiated an echo of its magnitude.

Gabriel had never had a banishing sigil used on him before, though he may have utilized it to rag on some fellow angels back in the day. It'd looked like an uncomfortable experience, being jettisoned into the cosmos against one's will. But all angels caught themselves mid-flight into Heaven anyway, so no harm done. This, though, this looked beyond the mortal concept of painful.

Gabriel swallowed hard as he noticed several of the lacerations appeared inflamed, probably a residual burn from the spell. Wrapping a piece of gauze around all four of his fingers, he dipped it into the salve and spread it generously over the wounds. He wondered if it would even make a difference.

Once that was applied, he huffed as he considered how to re-wrap Castiel's chest without someone there to help hold the angel up. A return trip to the bathroom yielded a roll of skin tape, so Gabriel settled for taping several layers of square bandages over the cuts. Castiel showed no signs of discomfort throughout the process, and might as well have been a cadaver for Gabriel's Dummy School of Medicine.

The archangel frowned as he narrowed his focus on his younger brother. Actually, Castiel was too still. It took a moment for Gabriel to figure out why, but he'd spent enough time amongst mortals these past few centuries to realize that Castiel's vessel was no longer breathing. Which wasn't usually a problem, not when angels offered instant healing to their hosts. Only, Castiel didn't have any grace left for that.

Fear spiked through Gabriel, and he pressed a palm against Castiel's chest, unmindful of the wounds. There was that faint spark of grace, nestled in Castiel's solar plexus, but it was sputtering desperately as it fought to keep the vessel alive…and was hopelessly failing.

Gabriel let out a curse. Unlike demons, angels couldn't inhabit a corpse, and Castiel's grace would fight to save its physical shell until he winked out from the strain. But Gabriel couldn't heal him without also risking the same. Dammit, he had to do something, though.

"Lucifer!" he bellowed, storming to the door only to find it locked. Gabriel banged on it several times, the force of divine celestial intent making the walls shake. No one responded.

He whirled back toward Castiel with another slew of curses. This was not happening. He wouldn't allow it to happen. The archangel Gabriel, stand-in god of mischief, infamous Trickster, did _not_ accept defeat. In _anything_.

Marching back to Castiel's side, Gabriel stretched out both hands over his torso. Maybe he couldn't heal the lesser angel directly, but he could sustain the vessel. He reached out with his grace, wincing as the binding sigils on the cuffs tried to reel him back in. Pressure started building in his head, but Gabriel pushed harder, forcing power out and into Castiel's body. His grace settled into the lungs and heart, and Gabriel inhaled deeply as he took over regulating those functions.

Castiel's grace fluttered like a candle flame buffeted by a hurricane.

 _No you don't_ , Gabriel snarled, making sure to keep a tight rein on his own grace. _Come on, Cas, I've got things here. Just relax_.

The smaller grace flickered uncertainly, but as the vessel began to breathe again, Castiel sank further into himself. He was an ember now, and Gabriel feared this would all be for naught. But he didn't dare withdraw. Even when a splitting migraine began pounding behind his eyelids, he kept pouring strength into Castiel's vessel. His wrists burned as the spelled manacles heated up with the effort of fighting against him, and his vision started darkening. Gabriel didn't know how long he'd been keeping this up—or how much longer he could maintain it. Heck, maybe he'd end up killing himself instead.

 _Well, it's not like that wasn't Plan A in the first place_.

The room blurred and bent sideways as Gabriel finally passed out.

* * *

Warmth suffused down into him, brushing his grace with tenderness and soothing the raw edges. Gabriel blinked his eyes open to a radiant golden haze, and for a moment wondered if he'd taken a detour into the sun somewhere. But as the light receded into the hand hovering above his face, Gabriel jerked fully awake and tried to scramble backwards, only to bump against a headboard. He'd been laid on a settee, which he was fairly certain was a recent addition to the room's decor.

Lucifer stood over him, a thoughtful expression softening his brow as he withdrew his hand. "You're just full of surprises lately," he mused. "Self-sacrifice isn't usually your card."

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose as the last vestiges of his headache subsided. He felt utterly drained, yet the pain was quickly dissolving, and even the wound in his chest felt better. The weight of a manacle on his wrist reminded him of his predicament, however.

He bolted upright. "Castiel."

Lucifer's mouth quirked, and he stepped aside so Gabriel could see past him to the bed. "Still alive. Another of your surprises. Actually, I found your method of targeting the vessel to be rather ingenious."

Gabriel eased himself up. "I have my moments," he muttered, and then, because he couldn't help himself, asked in a quiet voice, "You're sure he's all right?"

"At the moment," Lucifer replied. "I took over after I found you passed out, until Castiel's vessel was able to regulate on its own again."

Gabriel didn't know what to make of that; it still unnerved him that Lucifer would show any interest in the lesser angel's survival. But, Gabriel was grateful nonetheless. He was actually more relieved than he would have expected that Castiel was still hanging on.

"I brought you something," Lucifer interrupted his thoughts.

Gabriel looked up as his brother gestured to a dessert cart filled with a variety of scrumptious looking treats.

"I heard you developed something of a sweet tooth while down in the trenches, though I frankly don't see the appeal." Lucifer shrugged. "Still, don't say I never did anything for ya."

Gabriel's mouth turned down. He wasn't inclined to accept anything from Lucifer, not even a trivial dessert package. However, he also had no intention of letting his pompous brother think he had Gabriel cowed. So, with a little more effort than he was happy exerting, he pushed himself to his feet and sauntered over to the trays. He plucked a donut hole from one of the platters and popped it in his mouth with a smug smirk.

The corner of Lucifer's lips twitched, but he didn't say anything more, just walked over to stand at the side of Castiel's bed. The overly processed sugar turned to ash on Gabriel's tongue at the considering look Lucifer was appraising the younger angel with.

"I remember him now," Lucifer spoke, holding out his hand as it glowed with a golden aura, infusing a little more healing and bathing Castiel's face in soft, warm light. "I met him just once. Back _then_. He was quite an inquisitive young angel."

Gabriel swallowed hard. He didn't often think of…back then. The bad memories overshadowed the good. Not to say there hadn't been any.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, the squirt loved asking questions. 'Why was the earth seventy-one-percent water if humans could only live on land?' 'Whose idea was the platypus?'"

Lucifer lowered his hand, leaving Castiel with a bit more color in his cheeks. "Inquisitiveness doesn't go over well with the other angels."

Gabriel shifted his weight. No, he supposed not. And, really, he probably should have seen Castiel's rebellion coming. After all, out of all the other angels, Cas had the type of spunk that Gabriel did. If the Trickster hadn't been so self-absorbed, he might have kept a closer eye on things, hung around to meet Castiel when he finally fell. But he hadn't, and the kid had to go it alone.

"The three of us have a lot in common," Lucifer said, echoing part of Gabriel's thoughts, but adding an unnerving note to it. He reached out and settled his hand upon Castiel's brow. Cas's closed eyes squinted tighter for a moment before his head subconsciously leaned into the gentle touch. "I know you're not thrilled with this, Gabriel, but I'm happy to have my brothers here."

An unsettling lump curdled in the pit of Gabriel's stomach. For half a second, just one moment, he could imagine things the way they were before Lucifer rebelled and was cast out, before their family was torn apart. That they could forget the past and be reconciled. But Gabriel knew his brother, knew the depths of his pride and arrogance. And as he watched Lucifer stroke Castiel's head, Gabriel couldn't help but nervously wonder just what his older brother was playing at.

* * *

Lucifer left again not much later, leaving Gabriel alone with only Mr. Comatose's stimulating company to pass the time. If he'd been somewhere like a human hospital, doctors would've thought him brain-dead. At least Castiel _was_ doing better, his vessel's vitals stable and his grace a low, steady throb, no longer on the verge of sputtering out.

Gabriel sucked on a cherry lollipop as he lounged in a plush upholstered chair, feet propped up on the foot of the bed. He really should have been contemplating a means of escape, but, unfortunately, all the plans he'd brainstormed thus far were rather pathetic. Construct a taser with copper wires from the wall and the hair dryer in the bathroom.

Yeah, because even if he could pull off a MacGyver without his handy conjuring powers, Lucifer wouldn't be taken down by a little zap. Then there was the idea of throwing a piece of furniture through the window and scaling down the balcony with a string of bedsheets knotted together.

Humiliating, was what that was, especially if he had to carry Castiel over his shoulder. Then there was his favorite idea—consume so many sweets he gave himself a massive stomach ache and tricked Lucifer into healing him more.

Gabriel rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He couldn't even overdose on sugar. That'd always been a perk of being an angel, and he'd already eaten two-thirds of the dessert platter.

"You'd better wake up soon if you want me to save you any," he commented to the still figure in the bed. There were a couple eclairs and chocolate-covered strawberries left on the tray. Gabriel preferred more of the high fructose corn syrup variety, but hey, beggars couldn't be choosers.

With a sigh, he swung his legs down and rose to his feet. This waiting was going to drive him insane. He wondered where Kali was. Somewhere safe, he hoped, though 'safe' didn't really exist anywhere on the planet at the moment. Gabriel also spared a thought for the Winchesters, who unfortunately would not be receiving his handy clue he'd left them. The _Casa Erotica_ DVD would only activate upon his death. So basically, they were all left adrift and utterly screwed.

A moan had him whipping back toward the bed. Castiel's brow furrowed as he sluggishly pried his eyelids open.

"'Bout time you woke up, kiddo."

Castiel blinked blearily. "Gabriel?"

"The one and only!" He did a little tap dance before retaking his seat next to the bed.

Castiel frowned, voice coming out little more than a croak. "What are you… Where am I?"

Gabriel grimaced; that question didn't have a good answer. "Uh, you're in a bed. And I'd advise not trying to get up just yet."

Castiel merely stared owlishly at him, eyes glassy and not quite focusing properly. Even so, he managed to muster a rather domineering glare. "Let me go."

Gabriel snorted. "First of all, you can't even stand. And second… _I'm_ not holding you prisoner."

"Is this one of your pocket dimensions?" Castiel rasped, apparently not buying Gabriel's assurance. And, okay sure, maybe what happened in TV land was capricious and in poor taste, but it wasn't like Gabriel went around intentionally nabbing angels. Not like someone else he could name…

Castiel started trying to lift himself up, only to collapse back onto the mattress. He squeezed his eyes shut with a pained groan. "What did you do to me?"

"Uh, nope, this one's all on you, kiddo. Remember carving an angel banishing sigil into your chest? Dope move, by the way."

Castiel's frown deepened, and he managed to raise his head enough to look down at his bandaged torso. "I…there were too many angels, and the Winchesters needed…"

"And it's always about them, isn't it?" Gabriel interrupted scornfully.

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "Why are you here?"

 _Not like I had a choice_ , he mentally muttered. "We-ll, like you, I threw myself on a grenade to help your precious Winchesters get out of yet another mess. Honestly didn't expect to wake up at all, let alone in Casa del Lucifer."

Castiel squinted at him for an extra beat before his eyes widened in alarm. "Lucifer?" he breathed.

Gabriel held up his manacled wrists, rotating them as evidence. "Yep. Guess he found you after your little stunt and decided to bring home another stray. Don't know why or what he's up to. So, like I said, _I'm_ not holding you here, but you are a prisoner."

Castiel closed his eyes, breaths starting to become shallow, which made Gabriel uneasy. Kid didn't need to get himself worked up; though, finding out the Devil was holding you captive was a pretty good reason for it.

"What is Michael waiting for?" Castiel let out in a moan of anguish.

Gabriel quirked a confused brow. "What do you think he's waiting for? The Michael Sword."

Castiel turned his head to look at him, smushing his hair against the pillow. "But…Dean said yes."

"Uh, no he didn't. Least not when I saw him last."

Castiel blinked, and there was definitely a glaze settling over his eyes, a sheen of fever and hope. His voice came out in barely a whisper. "He was going to say yes…"

Gabriel's mouth turned down. The older Winchester had decided to give in to Michael? When? Certainly not when Gabriel had seen him at the Elysian Fields Hotel. "Well, I guess he decided against it." He pursed his mouth thoughtfully. "Zachariah's dead. Dean-o killed him."

Castiel just stared at him, hope and doubt warring across his face. Gabriel still didn't understand why his little brother cared so much for those two selfish bastards…but he could respect it. After all, Gabriel had decided to side with them in the end.

"Then, Lucifer…" Castiel said hoarsely, and began tossing his head side to side. "I won't let him take Sam Winchester. I won't…" His voice trailed off, the last of his strength rapidly draining as sickness took hold once more.

Gabriel reached out to clasp his brother's forearm, despite how awkward it felt. Castiel, in his delirious state, simply stilled and gazed back at him pleadingly.

"It's okay, Cas," Gabriel soothed. "I won't let Lucifer hurt you."

Castiel's eyelids fluttered, and then drifted completely shut. His breaths wheezed slightly in his chest, but they were his own. Gabriel didn't remove his hand; his grace swirled just under the surface, enough to call out to Castiel's and resonate with it, even if he couldn't risk connecting yet. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Castiel seemed to settle into a deep sleep from it.

"I won't let him touch you," Gabriel reasserted, though he had no idea how he was supposed to protect either of them from their brother's machinations.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This week has just *dragged*. As did last week. Ugh. I'm thinking I'll switch to posting twice a week, whether that be a new chapter, or a one-shot when I have them, just to liven things up. I bet that would make a lot of people happy, especially when cliffhangers come around. ;)** **So Monday afternoon I'll post either a one-shot I'm working on (if it's finished), or the next chapter of "Brother Where You Bound."**

 **Now on to more brotherly feels!**

* * *

Chapter 3

* * *

 _"Brotherhood is a condition people have to work at."  
_ _– Maya Angelou_

* * *

Castiel didn't wake up again for several hours. Granted, the kid needed the rest, but it left Gabriel utterly _bored_. He'd idly flipped through some of the paperbacks found on the bookshelves, but most of them were dull historical fiction. Not a single smut scene was found to liven up the narrative. So Gabriel had taken to practicing his juggling skills. He blamed the shackles on his wrists for messing with his equilibrium and resulting in the broken ceramic centerpieces now swept under the bed.

When Cas finally showed signs of stirring, Gabriel abandoned his current amusement of taking a nail to the wall to scritch out renderings of Lucifer's face with anatomically incorrect body parts, and returned to his little brother's bedside.

Castiel's eyelids fluttered as he struggled to claw his way back to consciousness.

"How ya feeling?" Gabriel asked, sliding into the upholstered chair and folding his hands behind his head.

"Like I've been flayed and stretched on a rack," came the hoarse reply.

"Hm, fun times."

Castiel frowned, gaze turning inward for a moment. "What's wrong with me? I can't…I can't feel my wings."

Gabriel's mouth pressed into a thin line. He figured that would be the case, and while the snarky side of him wanted to point out Cas only had himself to blame, the archangel also had a current inkling of what it was like to be cut off from the essence of one's grace. And it was no picnic.

"You ain't far off," he started to explain. "That stunt you pulled did flay your grace." Gabriel hesitated. "There was actually a moment there when it almost winked out for good."

Castiel stared at him, despondent resignation settling in his eyes. "It's gone, then. I'm…I'm human."

Gabriel leaned forward and rested his elbows on the mattress. "Not mortal, but yeah, pretty close." He had no idea what that meant, either. Castiel obviously needed sleep—definitely not something an angel would do—but would he need food for his vessel? If he did, Gabriel would need to ask Lucifer for something other than sugary goodness. And the thought of asking his high-and-mighty brother for _anything_ irked the shit out of him.

Castiel closed his eyes and turned his head away.

"Look, uh," Gabriel floundered, feeling like he should offer some comfort, but not really knowing how. "At least you're not dead. And, er, I'm sure you'll find your way back to the Winchesters." Not _his_ first choice, but he was trying to make Castiel feel better.

Cas looked at him again. "They would have no use for me like this." He shook his head. "I tried, Gabriel, I tried to do what I thought was Father's will." His voice cracked. "Was I wrong?"

A lump started forming in Gabriel's throat. He did _not_ want to dredge up his own feelings of disappointment and doubt when it came to their absentee father. So he reacted like he always did, donning a glib and indifferent air. "Can't see how you can be wrong when Dad doesn't even have an opinion on the matter."

"He brought me back, though," Castiel continued, voice wrecked with devastation. "Why would he do that if he didn't want me to continue on this path?"

Gabriel sighed, and ran a weary hand down his face. "I don't know what to tell you, kiddo. You're making your own path. You chose to stand with the Winchesters against the will of Heaven." It was, in a sense, more noble than the path Gabriel had marked for himself when he left to carve out a life of carnal pleasure among the pagans.

Castiel turned his head to focus on him. "You chose that, too. You said you helped them, even though you wanted them to fulfill the destinies laid out by Heaven. You changed your mind."

Gabriel shifted uncomfortably. "Guess I did." _Lot of good it did him_.

The door handle behind him clicked, and Gabriel was instantly on his feet as Lucifer entered. He didn't know whether to be grateful or annoyed at the interruption, but Gabriel found himself instinctively stepping closer to Castiel as their brother sauntered over.

"Well, well," Lucifer said with a smile. "Look who's awake."

Castiel struggled to push himself up, and this time Gabriel helped him into a sitting position; he wouldn't want to be found lying down and vulnerable in front of the Devil, either. Cas gritted his teeth until Gabriel leaned him back against the headboard, but even that small action left him slightly panting for breath. Nevertheless, he managed to level a rather defiant glare at Lucifer. Gabriel almost grinned smugly.

Lucifer's lips twitched in amusement as he roved his gaze up and down Castiel. "It's good to see you finally recovering, brother."

"I won't lead you to the Winchesters," he responded tersely.

Lucifer clucked his tongue. "Really, Castiel, is that why you think you're here?"

Cas's throat bobbed, the only sign that he was unnerved, yet he staunchly continued to hold Lucifer's gaze. Gabriel, too, was waiting to see what their brother had up his sleeve.

Lucifer merely shook his head at the ceiling. "Would it kill either of you to show a little gratitude?"

Castiel's frown deepened. "For what?"

"For saving you, to start." Lucifer gestured at the lesser angel's bandaged chest. "Your vessel would've succumbed to the elements if I'd left you out there, or one of Michael's cronies would have found you. And I can tell you your accommodations in Heaven wouldn't be _nearly_ as nice as these."

"Oh yeah, real nice," Gabriel muttered. "No Dish, no call girls…"

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Is everything a joke to you, Gabriel? I can't believe how far you've fallen."

He might have been offended, if he weren't trying to divert Lucifer's attention away from Castiel. "Pft, you're one to talk."

"At least I rebelled for _something_. You just went to play in the mud with the riffraff."

" _Your_ rebellion tore our family apart!"

Lucifer didn't respond for a long moment, and when he did, his tone was softer. "I'm trying to make up for that now."

Gabriel's brows rose. "Excuse me?"

The archangel gestured to the three of them. "You know, out of all the angels, we three are the most alike."

"And how do you figure that?" Gabriel asked wryly. He may have seen some similarities between him and Cas, a kinship of spunk and gumption that a small part of Gabriel had to admire. But while Gabriel and Lucifer had been close back in the good ole days, Castiel was _nothing_ like the fallen archangel.

"We all rebelled, all chose paths the rest of our family scorned." Lucifer spread his arms. "We loved too much. I loved Father more than the humans…" He gave Castiel a pointed look. "You loved them more than our brethren. And you, Gabriel, loved yourself and the world more than Heaven. Don't you see? We actually fit together rather poetically."

Gabriel shook his head in disbelief; he'd forgotten just how smooth his brother's tongue could be.

"You mean to destroy the world and humans we love," Castiel spoke up gruffly.

Lucifer sighed. "Look, the Apocalypse is inevitable. There's no putting it back in the box. But no matter which way it runs, people are gonna die. However…if you two join me, we could save a precious few." His eyes took on a predatory gleam Gabriel recognized with aching familiarity.

"Like the Winchesters," the Devil said to Cas. "With Sam as my vessel, he would be safe and cared for. You could even still talk to him! We'd have like, weekly tea times or something."

Castiel's expression hardened. "Sam would be imprisoned for all eternity, never to find rest in Heaven."

Lucifer scoffed. "Like he's got a place there anyway. And come on, you make it sound like being my vessel is torture. What'd you tell your vessel when you gained his consent, hmm?"

"He…" Castiel faltered. "He said yes to save his family."

"As will Sam. We can guarantee Dean's safety as long as he doesn't say yes to Michael. Look, I know it's not the outcome you were hoping for, but isn't it better than losing everyone you care about?"

Gabriel clenched his fists, not liking the direction this conversation was taking, at all. After everything he'd given up, if either of the Winchesters became vessels now, it would all have been for nothing. The pain and sacrifice absolutely pointless.

In that moment, Gabriel understood why Castiel had carved that sigil into his chest when he thought Dean Winchester had made up his mind to let Michael wear him to the prom.

"You'd like to spare Kali, wouldn't you, Gabriel?" Lucifer's voice broke through his thoughts. "I mean, I still don't get your attraction to her, but hey, I can be open-minded if it means your happiness."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "You tried to kill her."

"Uh, she was standing between me and Sam," Lucifer pointed out, sounding as though it'd been nothing more than someone cutting in line at the supermarket. And that was the problem—anyone who stood in Lucifer's way, he wouldn't hesitate to cut down.

"No," Castiel growled, pushing away from the headboard. "I told you I would die first, and I stand by that. Kill me if you want, but I will never help you take Sam Winchester."

Gabriel stiffened. As much as he didn't particularly want Castiel to give in, he didn't want to see his brother eradicated, either. "Whoa, let's slow things down a bit here," he said, lifting his palms in a placating gesture.

Castiel glowered at him, which was totally uncalled for. Gabriel wasn't _siding_ with Lucifer, jeez. He was trying to save Castiel's miserable ass.

"I'm not going to kill you, Castiel," Lucifer said calmly, even as he took an imposing step closer to the bed.

Castiel had to brace his hands on the mattress to hold himself up, his arms quivering from exertion and sweat beading across his brow as his breaths became more labored.

Lucifer gave him a sympathetic moue, and reached a hand out. Castiel flinched back, but had nowhere to go. Gabriel sprung forward and grabbed Lucifer's wrist in a vice-like grip.

His older brother just leveled a simpering look at him. "You still don't trust me?" Lucifer splayed his fingers, suffusing a warm glow around them. He shifted his palm to angle down toward Castiel's chest, and though Gabriel didn't let go of the Devil's wrist, he allowed the movement as Lucifer poured additional healing into Castiel's haggard vessel.

Cas's face pinched in discomfort, but he sagged back against the headboard as his breathing gradually evened out.

"It will take time," Lucifer explained. "Your grace is still too raw from the banishing spell." The healing light receded, and he pulled his hand back. Gabriel released his wrist.

"Despite what you think of me, Castiel," Lucifer continued. "You're my little brother, and I intend to look after you." He lifted his gaze to Gabriel. "Both of you."

With that, he turned and left the room. Gabriel didn't hear the click of a latch, but knew better than to check the door; magical locks didn't need to make a sound.

Cas shifted on the bed with a grimace. "What…what is his game?"

Gabriel sighed, and sank wearily into the plush chair. "I don't know." All that propaganda about brotherhood and family…Lucifer had never put his siblings above his own selfish desires. Gabriel had been right that Lucifer probably only wanted Castiel as a means of getting to the Winchesters.

But why keep Gabriel around? For old times' sake? The Light-bringer couldn't actually care, could he? No, Gabriel knew, he _knew_ what rotten filling lay inside his brother's promises.

So why did they have to be so damn alluring?

* * *

Castiel didn't relax even after Lucifer had exited the room. He stayed slumped against the back of the bed, still exhausted despite the archangel's infusion of healing. Castiel had known since waking up that his grace had diminished so severely he was more or less human, but to hear confirmation from the Devil, and then for even an archangel's power to be unable to restore him by significant degrees…the reality of his situation weighed upon his heart and mind with crushing despair. He had no hope of escaping Lucifer, and even if by some miraculous means managed it, Castiel had nowhere to go.

Glancing down at the ruin of his vessel, he tentatively brushed his fingers over the bandages, wincing at the sharp pain such movement caused. The ache in his limbs had eased with Lucifer's touch, as had the tightness in his breathing—how he'd taken such a simple act for granted—but the cuts Castiel had made with his own hand, with a mundane, inconsequential box cutter, still burned with the fury of the spell. He had expected to die in that warehouse. So why was he spared, if this was to be his fate?

Perhaps it was punishment, he concluded. For rebelling against Heaven. He had been convinced that it was the right decision, and when he'd first been resurrected after Raphael smote him, Castiel believed he was meant to continue helping the Winchesters. It was challenging, without some of his powers, but he'd tried to have faith. Faith in his Father's will, faith in Dean Winchester. He'd lost both. And perhaps that was why he was being punished now, for losing his faith when it seemed Dean, at least, had deserved it all along.

Gabriel shifted in his seat, jolting Castiel out of his thoughts. The archangel cleared his throat. "Should change your bandages again."

"It's fine," Castiel immediately responded.

Gabriel rose to his feet with a shake of his head. "Sitting up probably reopened some of those wounds. And stop poking at them."

Castiel bristled, but kept his mouth shut as he curiously watched Gabriel retreat into the bathroom. His presence was another unexpected development Castiel didn't know what to make of. When the 'Trickster' emerged a moment later with fresh bandages, Castiel tried to push himself into a fully upright position again.

Gabriel let out a long-suffering sigh. "Just lie still, would ya?" He deposited the supplies on the end of the mattress and began unrolling strips of gauze.

Castiel furrowed his brow. "Why are you bothering with this?"

The archangel snorted. "Wow, you really are an ingrate." He leaned forward to start removing the blood stained bandages, and Castiel instinctively flinched away. Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Come on, squirt, I'm not gonna hurt you. And like it or not, you need a little help with your grace the way it is."

Castiel didn't appreciate the reminder. "You didn't seem to care when you locked me in your pocket dimension," he said bitterly, turning his head away as Gabriel peeled back the bandages. Some of the gauze tugged at congealed blood and inflamed skin, and Castiel gritted his teeth against the pain.

He both heard and felt Gabriel's sharp exhale against his brow, though didn't know whether it was out of exasperation or the sight of the wounds. Castiel almost glanced at them, but squeezed his eyes firmly shut at the last second. He didn't want to see more fruits of his failures. The aching sting was stark reminder enough.

Gabriel gently pried the sticky parts away from torn flesh, and Castiel sucked in a startled gasp when a cool gel touched his skin a few moments later. He opened his eyes enough to see Gabriel spreading a salve over the wounds, the angel's forehead pinched in concentration. For a split moment, Castiel's vision filled with the radiant glow of Heaven and the sensation of sitting on a white marble floor as tender hands smoothed out bent feathers. _"Next time you want to race Anna, watch where you're going," an amused voice lightly chided. Castiel was stiff under the ministrations, but Gabriel's voice continued to ramble soothingly until every last feather had been straightened_.

He shook the memory away, taken aback by its appearance; he hadn't remembered it until now, and given everything that had happened since then—war, Gabriel's disappearance, rebellion—it felt more like a waking dream.

"I'm sorry about that," Gabriel huffed.

Castiel blinked, unsure what he was referring to.

Gabriel laid down a patch of gauze, fingers ghosting over the wounds. Castiel almost flinched, but it seemed as though, even bound, Gabriel was managing to imbue some of his grace into muscle and tissue, taking away the pain.

"I was mad at everyone," he went on, not meeting Castiel's eye as he continued to cover the rest of the lacerations. "Lucifer and Michael for starting this whole thing, the Winchesters for dragging it out. Dad for letting it happen. And you, for being braver than I ever was."

Castiel squinted and didn't say anything, still feeling rather confused.

"So yeah, I took it out on the easiest targets." Gabriel sighed heavily and finally looked up. "Accept my apology or not, but I'm sorry."

A lump gathered uncomfortably in Castiel's throat, and he felt a strange sensation pricking at the corners of his eyes. It wasn't just that Gabriel had trapped him in the pocket dimension, in some farce of characters and violence. It was everything since Gabriel had vanished from Heaven—grief over losing a beloved brother, the feeling of betrayal when Castiel learned Gabriel hadn't died, but had abandoned them all. And then to be the target of the Trickster's capricious whims, as though their history meant nothing. Yes, that had left Castiel scarred.

"Why did you leave?" he blurted.

Gabriel's hands stilled for a moment as he stared intently at his task. After a prolonged moment, he finished taping the last piece of gauze in place. Then he tapped Castiel's shoulder. "Lean forward so I can wrap everything securely."

Castiel pushed himself up with a grunt, bracing his arms to the side to allow Gabriel room to wind another layer of bandages around his torso. "You didn't answer my question."

Gabriel's mouth thinned. "Like I said, you're braver than me."

"What does—"

"I didn't want to watch them fight, alright?" he snapped. Gabriel's eyes glistened, and he looked away. "It broke my heart what they were doing to each other."

Castiel didn't need him to expound upon who. He ducked his gaze, and after a minute of quiet, said softly, "Your death broke my heart."

It was another moment when the mattress dipped, and Castiel glanced up to find Gabriel sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms resting on his thighs, a range of sober emotions playing across his face.

"I'm sorry for that, too," he murmured. Then he slowly straightened and met Castiel's gaze head on. "I'm gonna do better now, though, I promise. I'm not leaving you this time, bro."

Castiel considered mentioning that since they were both prisoners, there was no way either of them could leave if they wanted to, but thought better of it. Besides, it was the sentiment that counted, as he'd learned from his time among humans. And truthfully, that did make all the difference.

Gabriel picked up the roll of gauze. "Okay, let me finish this. You're starting to look a little gray again."

Castiel forced himself to breathe steadily as he held himself up through the final stage of wrapping his chest. When it was done, he felt exhausted all over again, and Gabriel helped him ease back down to lie flat on the soft bed. His eyelids were already fluttering closed, despite his resistance. He hated the blank, numbing dark of unawareness.

A hand lightly touched his brow, a whisper of warmth stealing through him to calm his mind. _"I got you, little brother."_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I keep stealing bits of angel history from 29piecesofme's "The Book of Gabriel"*. She doesn't mind, though. ;) And thank you guest and Jaz for your reviews of chapter 3!**

* * *

Chapter 4

* * *

 _"Being his real brother I could feel I live in his shadows, but I never have and I do not now. I live in his glow."  
_ _– Michael Morpurgo_

* * *

Gabriel completed the last fold on his one-hundredth-and-eleventh paper airplane. Arching his arm back, he let it fly. It glided across the room, only to crash into the door as it opened and Lucifer stepped inside, foot crunching on a pile of downed aircraft. The Devil raised unimpressed brows at the mutilated pages torn out of books.

"I can think of something more productive for you to do," Lucifer said mildly.

Gabriel snorted. "We don't share the same taste in hobbies."

Lucifer eased the door shut behind him. "Well, that's not true. You have quite the reputation for killing humans."

"Hey, I never killed anyone who didn't deserve it."

Lucifer shrugged. "I suppose that's where our fundamental disagreement lies—I believe they all deserve it." He angled a glance over Gabriel's shoulder to where Castiel lay sleeping. "How is our little brother?"

"Resting more easily," Gabriel grudgingly replied. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen once Castiel was more recovered. Lucifer couldn't expect to keep them in this room forever.

The Devil meandered over, making Gabriel tense once more. His brother had a predatory air about him that never quite dispelled, even when he was playing nice.

Lucifer tilted his head at the lesser angel. "Curious, how he was resurrected. Didn't Raphael kill him? That's what I'd heard, anyway."

Gabriel scuffed his foot across the carpet. He'd heard that, too, but hadn't given it much thought. Mostly because it hurt to think dear old Dad had stepped in to save _Castiel_ , but not to stop Lucifer and Michael from destroying each other. Not that Gabriel resented the younger angel for it; he just didn't understand.

"I wonder why," Lucifer mused, hand twitching as though to reach out.

Gabriel scoffed loudly. "It wasn't like Dad made him a messiah or anything. He's cut off from the Host and completely powerless now." Gabriel winced internally. Shit, in trying to divert Lucifer from thinking he could use Castiel in some way, Gabriel was making it sound as though the angel was worthless—in which case Lucifer would have no reason to keep him around. Talk about a lose-lose situation.

"Hm," Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. "For now, perhaps. However, once he's healed more, I could restore his angelic power. If he joined me."

Gabriel rolled his eyes; his brother never stopped trying. "You'll have to wait a while." He didn't clarify whether he meant for Castiel to recover or for the stubborn angel to even come close to giving in. The lesser angel had seemed pretty determined when he'd been shakily standing his ground against the Devil. Or, half-sitting his ground. Whatever.

"And how long will you wait, Gabriel? Patience was never one of your virtues."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Hah. Again, you're one to talk."

Lucifer pursed his mouth and shrugged. "You and I were always the more passionate of the four archangels. Michael and Raphael are such…" He sighed. "Sticks in the mud."

Gabriel almost laughed. 'Passionate,' right. Lucifer's nature was mercurial at best, and Gabriel was just waiting for the patience to wear thin and the cobra to strike. "Yin and Yang and all that," he said blithely.

"Come on," Lucifer groused. "You don't really want Michael running things for the rest of eternity, do you? Paradise under _his_ rule? You'd be miserable."

"Yeah, and your version with fire, brimstone, and zombies is _soo_ much better."

Lucifer moved away from the bed and picked up a defaced book from the end table. "It doesn't all have to be that way. You could help me shape it. Maybe keep a few patches here and there for your…human pets." He snapped his fingers in sudden inspiration. "Hey, pocket dimension zoos."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes as Lucifer grinned at him.

"Really? Nothing?" Lucifer sighed and dropped the book back on the pile. "What happened to your sense of humor, Gabriel?"

He held up his shackled wrists. "Guess it's being suppressed with the rest of my charming fireworks."

Lucifer huffed out an annoyed breath. "I let you go and you turn on me, and then I'll be forced to do something I'll regret."

Gabriel clenched a fist, hating how his brother assumed any confrontation would end favorably for Lucifer. Granted, the last one had… "Keeping me prisoner isn't exactly the way to inspire good will."

Lucifer shook his head in disbelief. "Does our history mean nothing to you?"

"Which history would that be? Stabbing me with my own blade? Or how about when one of your fights with Michael ended with me taking an archangel grenade to the face?" If it'd been any other angel hit by the ricochet that day, they would have died. As it was, Gabriel had been lucky not to have been permanently damaged.*

"You're still sore about that?"

"Um, gee, maybe just a little?" Gabriel spun away, wishing he could flap his wings and flee his infuriating brother's presence like he used to do when Michael, Raphael, or Lucifer were getting too full of themselves.

"You know I didn't want you to get hurt."

Gabriel whirled back around to face him again. "But you never even _thought_ about the possibility of it happening anyway! To me, to one of our brothers or sisters. You never think about that, Lucifer! You've only ever thought of yourself."

Lucifer took a stormy step forward. "Who was it who tended your wounds after the battle of Darkness? Or who kept Michael off your trail after your numerous pranks?"

Gabriel shook his head, heart rending from the anguish of both cherished and tormented memories. "Yes, Lucifer, you were my brother in every sense. But then Dad created _them_ , and your pride and resentment left no room for me or anyone else."

Lucifer didn't respond for a prolonged beat, eyes swirling dark orbs. "I see," he said in a soft voice, and started toward the door. "I'd hoped you'd see my motives are genuine here, brother." He paused with his hand on the knob. "Take Castiel, for instance. I only desire what is best for him. If you do as well, you'll encourage him to join me."

Gabriel felt a chill run through his veins, the unspoken threat left hanging in the air as Lucifer departed once more. The Devil never said it out loud, but if Castiel didn't choose the path that was 'best for him,' it'd be Lucifer doling out the 'consequences.' They needed to escape, ASAP.

Gabriel tiptoed to the door and pressed his ear against it. Steady footsteps receded down the hall before everything grew still and silent. Then he hurried back to the bed and shook Castiel roughly.

"Enough beauty sleep, kiddo, time to get up."

Castiel moaned, but then jerked awake. "Gabriel? What's wrong?"

"We're leaving." He strode to the closet where he'd found Castiel's shirt and coat had been thrown at some point. The white dress shirt was covered in blood stains on the inside front, but the trench coat would conceal most of it.

Castiel pushed himself up onto his elbows with a grunt, still blinking blearily as Gabriel tossed the clothes at him. "What happened?"

"Nothing yet, but I don't fancy waiting for Lucifer to blow a gasket before we take our leave, do you?"

Castiel gave him a doubting look, and then glanced down to finger the shirt uncertainly.

Gabriel went to the window and peered out. It was getting late, dusk approaching fast. The mansion and tall hedges cast elongated shadows across the grounds, which would provide adequate cover. He turned back to Castiel, who had yet to get dressed.

"Dammit," Gabriel cursed. "Can you even stand?"

Castiel shot him a dark glower, and scooted to the edge of the bed so he could swing his legs over. "I'll be fine." He rose shakily, but found his balance after a moment.

Gabriel waited a beat, then lifted his brows expectantly when Castiel still didn't slip his shirt on. Castiel glanced at it in his hand and frowned. Rolling his eyes, Gabriel walked back over and helped his invalid brother get his arms through the sleeves.

"Right, shoes," Gabriel muttered, noticing Castiel's socked feet. After rummaging in the closet, he found a pair of loafers he assumed belonged to Castiel's vessel. Castiel stared at the laces just as dubiously as he had the shirt, and Gabriel resigned himself to tying them himself.

"How are we going to escape?" Castiel asked when Gabriel straightened.

"Out the window. There's a trellis we'll be able to climb down." _If Castiel_ can _climb_. Standing was one thing, but scaling a lattice frame was another. Gabriel didn't bring it up, though, because there was little choice in the matter.

Gabriel snatched up the rusty nail he'd been playing with earlier and slapped it in Castiel's hand. "I need you to go out on the balcony and then make a bunch of scratches on the outside glass. There are runes I can't pass." One pro to the kid's diminished angelic state was he shouldn't be vulnerable to the sigils.

Castiel hobbled to the window and fiddled with the latch until it broke. Then he shouldered his way onto the balcony. Gabriel came as close as he could, pushing against the pressure emulating from the invisible runes. With each scratch Castiel scored across the window pane, that pressure lessened. Finally, Gabriel was able to step outside. But they had a new problem, and that was finding footholds in the dying daylight.

Castiel stood bracing his palms on the ledge, overlooking the grounds. "I…I can't sense if there are demons close by."

Gabriel frowned; neither could he. But was it because his range of radar was tempered, or because there weren't any demons to sense? "Looks clear," he said, and swung one leg over the side of the railing. "Give me your hand."

Castiel shot him a constipated look, but after a moment reached out to grasp his proffered hand. He was still a little shaky, yet even with the sigiled cuffs, Gabriel possessed angelic strength and was able to support Castiel's weight as they both started making their way down. Castiel's foot slipped more than once, wrenching Gabriel's elbow when it was yanked taut. The archangel nearly lost his handhold at one point, and slammed his nose against the ivy-covered trellis. Spitting out a mouthful of leaves and several dozen curses, Gabriel readjusted his grip and considered simply jumping the rest of the way. But Cas wouldn't come out of that uninjured, so Gabriel gritted his teeth and continued their slow progress.

Their feet finally touched ground, by which time the yard had been draped in the shadow of twilight. Gabriel cocked his head to the left, indicating the direction they should go. Castiel followed with blind trust, even though Gabriel didn't actually know where they were headed. He just figured anywhere away from here was good enough.

Castiel's heavy breathing sounded infuriatingly loud in the stealth of their flight, but it wasn't like the poor kid could help it. At least their footfalls were quiet across the grass, and no unexpected demons had come leaping out of the bushes.

Gabriel had the flitting thought that they would actually make it. And then they stumbled right up to a twenty-foot barrier of ivy that they couldn't just squeeze through, because underneath was a _cement_ wall.

"Now what?" Castiel panted.

Gabriel almost snapped at him, but reined in his temper at the last second. With his superior sight, he could see Castiel sweating despite the nightly chill. If only Gabriel could get these stupid cuffs off, then he could unfurl his wings and fly them out.

"We keep going," he said in a hushed voice. The wall had to end somewhere, and if it started leading back to the mansion, they'd try scaling it.

A howl pierced the air, curdling Gabriel's blood and making the hairs on his vessel stand on end. Castiel went rigid, eyes widening as his gaze snapped back toward the direction of the house.

Gabriel groaned. "You've got to be kidding me." Of _course_ big brother Luci would have a hellhound as a watchdog.

"Gabriel…" Cas said nervously.

Gabriel shoved at his shoulder. " _Move!_ "

They broke into a run, darting past an endless waterfall of creeping vines. Another howl rent through the night, and Gabriel's heart plummeted into his stomach; the beast had a scent. At least it didn't sound like a pack. Maybe they could outrun one hellhound.

Castiel stumbled, and Gabriel lashed out to grip his elbow and haul him forward. There appeared to be no end to the wall hemming in the property.

"We gotta climb!" But the first vine Gabriel snagged to pull himself off the ground snapped, and he stumbled backward. "Dammit!"

"Gabriel!"

He whirled to glance behind him at Castiel's alarmed call, adrenaline spiking through his vessel at the sight of a monstrous hellhound barreling across the grounds toward them. Red eyes gleamed in the darkness, brimstone breath chuffing out as the beast gnashed its teeth in anticipation. Gabriel instinctively reached for an angel blade that wasn't there, and for a moment it seemed as though time stopped. He was defenseless, without sword or ability to smite.

But that did not render his responsibility to his younger brother null.

Gabriel squared his shoulders against the oncoming hell beast. "Cas, climb!"

"Gabriel—"

"Just do it!" he snarled over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Castiel's terrified expression. Gabriel didn't have time to see whether the kid obeyed, because the hellhound was upon him in the next moment.

The massive, muscular body plowed into Gabriel, knocking him backward several feet. He threw his hands up to grab at the jaws attempting to clamp over his throat. Hot, putrid breath belched across his face, almost smothering him.

"Take a breath mint, Cujo," he growled, and tried to wrench the hound to the side.

The mutt snapped its jaws viciously, saliva flinging into Gabriel's eyes and mouth. _So_ not hygienic. With a grunt of effort, Gabriel bucked and managed to slam the hellhound down onto its side. It yelped, and then kicked its back legs in response, claws scoring searing gashes down Gabriel's chest and stomach. He threw his head back with a scream, the night briefly lit by a flare of grace burning through the wounds.

The beast jerked its head out of Gabriel's grip, and then its fangs were ripping into his arm, shattering bone. Gabriel cried out again, trying to force his grace past the binding sigils on his wrists. Pain exploded through his head and his abdomen as teeth and claws tore into borrowed flesh, down into his true form. He thought he heard Castiel shouting, and prayed the stupid kid would just run. Then the pressure in his head imploded, and the world went dark.

* * *

Castiel frantically searched for anything he could use as a weapon as his brother's screams and the hellhound's snarls punctured the night. The best he could find was a chunk of brick wall, which he scooped up and hurtled at the beast. The rock struck it square in the face, eliciting a high-pitched yelp and knocking the creature off the archangel. But Gabriel didn't get up, and Castiel's heart seized at the splotches of blood slick on the grass.

The hellhound gave itself a rough shake, and turned piercing rufous eyes on him. Steam puffed from its mouth and nostrils as the beast took a step forward, a growl rumbling deep within its throat. Castiel backed up against the ivy-covered wall, nowhere to run, no way to fight.

An aura of power rippled through the air, followed by a voice low and deadly. " _Enough_."

Castiel didn't think he could be more terrified as Lucifer stormed forward from the shadows, steely malice swirling in the depths of his eyes. He swept his gaze over the scene quickly before glaring at the hellhound. With a jerk of his chin, the beast whimpered and took off at a trot back toward the house. Lucifer's fuming eyes then locked onto Gabriel's prone form.

Castiel wavered, frozen in shock as Lucifer took long, hurried steps to his brother's side, dropping to his knees on the ground. Golden light lit the yard with the archangel hovering his hands over the gaping wounds.

"You stupid _moron_ ," Lucifer muttered under his breath, working quickly to slow the massive bleeding and mend flesh and muscle back together.

Castiel watched with bated breath. He dare not try to escape unnoticed, partly because he knew such action would be futile, but also because he wanted—needed—to know that Gabriel was all right. In a few moments, it didn't matter, because shadows moved around the periphery as a group of demons closed in around them, silently waiting on their master.

The light faded, yet Gabriel didn't wake. Lucifer scooped his arms underneath his limp brother, and lifted Gabriel off the ground. He shot Castiel a withering look before turning back toward the house. "Bring him," came the terse command.

The demons began to move forward, but Castiel didn't wait for them to roughly grab him. He had no intention of resisting, anyway, since he stood no chance against them, and so he began limping after Lucifer, guilt tearing at his heart. If only he'd been quicker, or stronger, he could have helped Gabriel. Now they were still captives, and Lucifer would ensure they not attempt escape again.

More demons had gathered in the foyer when they returned to the mansion, exchanging glances and whispers as the Devil personally carried in a bleeding archangel. Castiel couldn't begin to guess what they thought of such a scene, nor did it matter. He silently followed Lucifer up the stairs and to one of the bedrooms. Not the one he'd been staying in, but another with a maroon comforter and browning plants. Lucifer gently laid Gabriel on the bed. In the lamplight, Castiel could see the wounds fully, and his stomach twisted at the sight of jagged flesh and split skin still weeping blood.

"Can't…can't you heal him?"

Lucifer whirled so fast, Castiel hadn't even blinked before the archangel had him by the shirt and slammed back against the wall. Pain radiated down his spine, and Castiel clamped his teeth together to keep a whimper from escaping past his lips.

"You think hellhound wounds are _easy_ to heal?" Lucifer seethed. "The demonic saliva is practically _venomous_ to angels."

Castiel swallowed hard. He knew that, had seen such instances when his garrison had laid siege to Hell.

"I should rip you apart, just like he was," Lucifer uttered with lethal intent.

Castiel held his breath, even as it made his lungs burn and his vision spotty.

"This was your idea, wasn't it?" Lucifer continued. "All so you could get back to your precious Winchesters." His fist clenched tighter, and he shook Castiel hard enough to knock the back of his head against the wall.

Still, he didn't answer, thinking it safer to stay quiet under the Devil's wrath.

Lucifer leaned forward, face a breath away from Castiel's. "I thought you would be useful, Castiel. But you're determined to be a thorn in my side instead, aren't you?"

"Please," he managed to rasp. "Don't let him die."

Lucifer sneered. "Don't worry, I love my brother. But you, I think you've outlived your usefulness." He lifted his hand, two fingers extended outward. Castiel braced for the might of an archangel to blast through him, to rip him apart just as Raphael had done in Chuck Shurley's house. But when the Devil's fingers touched his forehead, Castiel was only briefly swallowed in a vortex of wind and shadow before he landed heavily in a cold, dank room, his arms chained above his head to a rod sticking out of a concrete pillar.

He tugged against them futilely, wincing as the uncomfortable position wrenched his half-healed wounds. Castiel roved his gaze over dusty crates and wine racks covered in cobwebs. A barred window near the ceiling peeked out to the night, and the muffled voices of demons walking rounds drifted down from a door at the top of some steps. So he'd been relegated to the cellar now. One step up from execution, he supposed.

A shiver wracked through Castiel's body, and he tucked his legs in toward his chest. He could only pray that Gabriel would survive, and that Lucifer wouldn't do worse to the younger archangel.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

 _"Because brothers don't let each other wander in the dark alone."  
_ _– Jolene Perry_

* * *

Gabriel felt as though someone had poured molten lava into his veins. It coursed through him with raging vengeance, bubbling up into a tortured scream. He thrashed back and forth trying to escape it, but the fire was in his blood, boiling like acid.

 _"Easy, brother."_ Strong hands gripped his shoulders and forced him down. Gabriel bucked, but the pressure was unyielding.

 _"I know it hurts,"_ the low voice continued filtering through the haze of pain and delirium. _"But it will pass."_

More heat swelled above him, and Gabriel whimpered. _No, no more. No more burning, please_.

The sphere of energy ignored his pleas, suffusing down in a wave of golden light like a solar flare. Yet when it washed over Gabriel, it did not bring a scorching touch; rather, it soothed the endings of his nerves, pushing some of the pain away.

Gabriel blinked his eyes open to a fuzzy ceiling and the cloying scent of sweat and blood. A faint aura receded from down near his chest, and Lucifer's face appeared above him. Relief and dread simultaneously flooded him, leaving Gabriel drowning in confusion. He was safe, his older brother was here. So why did he also feel as though something was terribly wrong?

"Shh," Lucifer whispered, settling a hand upon Gabriel's feverish brow. "The hellhound saliva needs time to completely work its way out of your system."

Hellhound saliva? Why on earth had Gabriel gone and tangled with a hellhound? No, that couldn't be right; there were no hellhounds in Heaven. Was it a prank gone wrong? Gabriel didn't think he would have _actually_ done something like that, but then, he could almost imagine Michael's face if the eldest archangel walked into the Great Hall to find a hellhound puppy…

Lucifer shifted, and Gabriel flailed for his brother's hand. "Lucifer, don't leave." He hurt, more than he ever had in his entire existence, and he wanted his older brother to take the pain away. Lucifer was always good at that.

Warm hands cupped his frozen ones. Wait, wasn't he still on fire?

"I'm right here, Gabriel."

His body shuddered, and he let out a long moan. A tendril of grace brushed against his own, whispering comfort and bracing him throughout another wave of agony. Gabriel twisted in discomfort, only to elicit a new kind of pain—sharp and biting, and when his eyes fluttered open and happened to glance down at his torso, he nearly retched. Some things were meant to stay on the inside, he was fairly certain.

"The saliva is preventing me from healing you completely," Lucifer explained.

Well, didn't that just suck? But seriously, if he was this bad off, where was Michael? Or Dad? Gabriel floated in a fiery fog, occasionally pierced by spurts of soft, soothing effervescence that drew him back from the brink of insanity he otherwise would have tipped over. Gradually, the pain lessened, though he still felt utterly wretched. His throat burned as though he'd taken a fire-breathing dragon as a vessel.

Thankfully, that was not the case, and during sporadic moments of lucidity, Gabriel noticed the gaping wounds in his stomach and chest were slowly being knit back together. Which was good, because he liked this vessel. How long had he worn it now…?

And speaking of vessels, Gabriel squinted at Lucifer and the blisters breaking out down his brother's face and neck. His older brother wasn't hurting himself by healing Gabriel's wounds, was he? No, that didn't make sense. But then, the injuries _were_ proving difficult; Gabriel's own grace couldn't seem to flow unobstructed through them.

Gabriel blinked rapidly, vision untainted by a rufous hue for the first time in what felt like eternity. He groaned. "Anyone catch the license tag of the dog that mauled me?"

A presence to his right let out a derisive snort. "You're lucky to be alive, you know that?"

Boy, did Luci sound angry. Gabriel tried to push himself into a sitting position, but unrelenting hands halted the attempt.

"Don't move, you idiot."

Gabriel thumped his head back on the pillow. "Aw, were you worried about me?"

A chair scuffing preceded a whiff of air as Lucifer apparently surged out of his seat. Gabriel listened to the sound of his brother's pacing, and used the time to gather his wits and dispel the rest of his brain fog. Something was niggling at the back of his mind.

Gabriel raised his arms to rub at his face, and froze when a heavy weight made the movement sluggish. There were manacles around his wrists. _Spelled_ manacles.

It felt as though his vessel's heart literally rent in two as everything came back to him. The Apocalypse, Lucifer running around trying to destroy the world. Stabbing Gabriel, taking him prisoner. _Castiel_ , and their unsuccessful escape.

Well, unsuccessful for Gabriel, but maybe Cas had…

"Guess we know who to place bets on the next time you let Cujo out of the kennel." He propped himself up onto his elbows, wincing at every twinge and ache that throbbed throughout his entire body.

Lucifer shot him a scathing look over his shoulder. "That was a stupid move, Gabriel."

He almost shrugged, but aborted the movement at the last second. "You know me." He gazed around the bedchamber, recognizing it as the one he'd woken up in the first time. Not fond memories. "Castiel back in his room, too?"

Gabriel was hoping for an incensed reaction, indignation that the little angel had given the Devil the slip, but the icy glare Lucifer delivered instead sent a shiver down Gabriel's spine.

"Because of Castiel, you nearly died."

Gabriel arched a surprised brow. "Check your math, Lucifer. It was _your_ watchdog."

"Which wouldn't have attacked if you hadn't tried to escape!" Lucifer seethed, fury wafting off him in palpable waves. He stormed back toward the bed. "After everything I did for you both, that was how he repaid me?"

A hollow feeling started carving itself out in the pit of Gabriel's stomach. "Where is Castiel?"

Lucifer sneered, and shook his head in obvious disgust. "He's no longer my concern."

Gabriel surged to his feet, his intended threat dampened by the fact that he nearly toppled face-first on the floor. Gripping the bedposts, Gabriel glowered at his brother. "I'm warning you, Lucifer, what did you do with him?"

"Why do you care? He's just an insignificant angel."

"Insignificant?" Gabriel repeated, ire rising up inside him. "And here I thought you considered us family. My mistake."

"Castiel was only here to keep you occupied," Lucifer retorted. "But since he nearly got you killed instead, he's now where he belongs."

Gabriel's blood turned to ice, and he staggered forward to grab Lucifer by the lapels of his shirt. Granted, it came across less menacing since he was half holding himself up with the gesture. "Where is he? I swear, Lucifer, if you touched _one hair_ on his head…"

Lucifer grasped Gabriel's arms, eyes flashing with umbrage and hurt. "How can you care more for that little twit than for me? I'm trying to _save_ you, Gabriel. All Castiel cares about are the Winchesters."

Gabriel barked out a contemptuous laugh. "You know what, Lucifer, at this point, I care more for those two dimwits than I do you. I was almost fooled, too, almost believed you did care about us. About me. But it was all a farce. Well, joke's on you; it was my idea to escape, not Castiel's."

Lucifer shook his head as though in denial. "I _do_ care about you, brother. Why can you not see it?"

Gabriel managed to wrench himself out of Lucifer's grip. "Take me to Castiel. Now."

They stared each other down, and if Gabriel's grace hadn't been bound by the sigiled cuffs on his wrists, the air would have been crackling with electricity. Lucifer, also, looked ready to erupt like a volcano, but after several long moments, his posture finally shifted.

"Very well, Gabriel," he said, voice low and laced with sinister intent. "You truly care about Castiel? Then perhaps this will work out after all. If you want him to live, convince him to help me get to Sam Winchester. If not…perhaps I'll set up a rousing game of fox and the hound. Granted, I don't have any foxes on the premises, but I'm sure I can come up with an adequate replacement."

Gabriel's chest heaved with barely repressed rage, and he would have lunged at his brother if it weren't taking every last ounce of strength just to keep himself standing.

"I'll have someone take you to Castiel after you've recovered a bit more," Lucifer continued indifferently.

"No—"

But before Gabriel could finish his protest, Lucifer had vanished in a swish of wings.

"Dammit!" He slammed his palm against the wall, sending a series of fissures through the drywall. Gabriel turned toward the door, intending to bang and rail against it until Lucifer got his ass back here, but his vision blurred, and he ended up stumbling back into the bed. Pain jarred through his bones as an echo of the hellhound poison reignited some of his nerve endings in fire. A stream of additional curses fell from his lips.

He needed to get to Cas, needed to see if his little brother was all right. _At least he's alive_. Yeah, but not for much longer if Castiel didn't help Lucifer get his vessel, which the angel would never do. Gabriel didn't even want that to happen, either. But the gloves had come off with their manic older brother, and Gabriel had no idea how he was supposed to get them out of this.

* * *

He must have passed out at some point, because the next thing Gabriel was aware of were horizontal shards of sunlight piercing through gaps in the curtains and nearly blinding him. Groaning, he rolled out of the sunbeams, his aching body twinging at the unwelcome movement. What time was it? How long had he been out? Gabriel _hated_ this feeling of disconnection from the cosmos. He was a being of celestial intent, able to grasp any thread of his Father's master tapestry with a _thought_. Not now, though. Now, he was trapped in this finite shell of his vessel, in this ugly room, with his dickhead brother lording power over him.

Gabriel pushed himself into a sitting position and peeked through the tattered slits in his shirt. The wounds on his torso were almost fully healed, a little pink and sore in places, but not spilling internal organs onto the floor. He couldn't even see a scar from where Lucifer had stabbed him, though Gabriel wasn't about to let himself forget that.

He spotted some clothes neatly folded on a nearby chair, frowning as he tried to figure out whether they'd always been there, or if Lucifer had left them. And if Lucifer _had_ put them out, Gabriel couldn't decide whether the gesture was thoughtful or just plain humiliating. After all, he shouldn't _have_ to manually dress himself in the first place, and it was Lucifer's blasted handcuffs keeping Gabriel from fixing himself with a snap of fingers.

But, he didn't exactly want to walk around looking like a vagrant, either. So he begrudgingly slipped out of his ripped and blood stained shirt, exchanging it for a nice clean one. The dizziness was gone, and he was able to change clothes without falling over. Big improvement. Judging by the sinking sun outside the window, Gabriel had been unconscious for a whole day. Maybe more, since he didn't know how long he'd spent in fevered delirium. And where had Castiel been that whole time?

"Hey, Luci!" Gabriel shouted to the ceiling. "Get your ass in here!"

He turned in a slow circle, but there was no flutter of wings in response. Gabriel marched to the door and started banging on it.

" _Now_ , Lucifer!"

When that still didn't work, Gabriel kicked the wood hard enough he _should_ have busted a hole right through it. But the damn thing was reinforced with yet more Enochian sigils. Lucifer wasn't taking any chances.

Gabriel began to pace, coiled, agitated energy needing an outlet. If he hadn't been bound, lightbulbs would've been exploding. Something might have spontaneously combusted.

He pulled up short as he passed the writing desk. Was that a box of matches? Gabriel snatched them up and regarded them for a moment. Well, heck, he could fight fire with fire. He struck a match, and then tossed it onto the bed. The flame fluttered weakly before simmering down to pool around the bunched fabric, and then it whooshed up into a galvanized blaze.

Gabriel stood back and crossed his arms. He felt petty satisfaction at watching the fancy coverlet burn, even though he rationally realized this wasn't really Lucifer's house. The Devil had just commandeered it from some poor schmuck.

Smoke billowed out to fill the room, wafting around Gabriel like tendrils of his own ire. The smoke alarm started blaring. As the fire spread to the curtains, leaping up like a roaring lion to devour them, Gabriel began to wonder how long it would take to get his brother's attention. Not that he was afraid of getting burned; even with the manacles, he wasn't _mortal_. But the smoke was tickling his nose uncomfortably.

The door burst inward then as three demons came barging through. They sputtered at the sight of the flames before two rushed to put them out and the third shot Gabriel a dark glare. The archangel merely lifted a brow in response. "Where's Lucifer?"

The demon puffed his chest out, as though that would make him appear more threatening. "Out."

Gabriel had to wonder if Lucifer had left on purpose, or if something was happening. He took a menacing step forward, and was pleased to note the flicker of uncertainty in the demon's eyes. "You know where Lucifer is keeping our other brother?"

The demon flicked his eyes toward his companions, who were successfully reining in the flames. He looked back at Gabriel. "Lucifer said—"

"I don't care what Lucifer said," Gabriel interrupted. "You take me to Castiel right now, or my next game is gonna involve painting the walls with your guts."

One of the other demons stepped forward and withdrew an angel blade from his jacket. Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "You're powerless right now," the moron smirked.

Gabriel pulled his shoulders back, and a dark pall briefly fell over the room. His wings twitched. Not enough to fly; he couldn't do that, but enough to shift the air and make it crackle. The demons started to fidget.

"By all means," Gabriel growled. "Test me."

The demons exchanged wary glances, along with taking in the destruction the fire had wrought. Yeah, Gabriel guessed Lucifer wouldn't be too happy about that.

The one holding the angel blade jerked it toward the door. "Fine. But don't try anything."

Gabriel sneered at him, and strode forward as though he were king of this house, and not its prisoner. He had no intention of telling them he wouldn't try to escape until he'd found Cas. Better to leave them on their toes. Though, the one with the angel blade was acting mighty twitchy, and Gabriel didn't want to get accidentally skewered. So he kept a measured pace as he followed the lead demon downstairs to the first floor. He did surreptitiously rove his gaze around, cataloguing the layout in case it could be useful in the future.

They came to a door, and when the demon opened it, Gabriel stiffened. A dark staircase led down into a basement, and for a moment, his mind conjured all kinds of images of what Lucifer's dungeon might look like.

Gabriel took a step forward, pausing on the landing. "If any of you vermin laid a single hand on my brother…" He let the threat hang in the air before continuing down the stairs. The demons didn't follow.

When he reached the bottom, Gabriel froze at the sight of his baby brother huddled on the floor, arms chained above his head. Gabriel had half-expected Cas to have been tortured, a broken and bleeding form left sprawled out for sport. Castiel's condition was nothing so horrifying, yet it wasn't good, either.

Gabriel rushed forward and dropped to the ground beside him. Cas was shivering violently, skin once again much too pale, lips bloodless. When Gabriel reached out to touch his face, he nearly jerked back at the ice cold feeling of Castiel's skin. His brother didn't even react to the contact.

Gabriel's other hand curled into a fist. How long had Cas been down here? Gabriel had warned Lucifer not to touch their little brother, but neglect had done just as much harm when Castiel was already weakened.

The air snapped with angelic fury leaking through the power of the sigiled cuffs. Gabriel reached for the chains driven into a concrete pillar, and with one sharp movement, yanked them from the stone with a resounding crack that sent bits of slag scattering across the floor. Gabriel lifted his unconscious brother in his arms and turned back toward the staircase.

"Hey!" one of the demons shouted.

Gabriel speared him with a glare that would have bored holes into the fetid essence had Gabriel possessed even a modicum of his original power. "I'm taking him back upstairs. You can tell Lucifer when he gets back where to find us."

The demons were blocking the top of the staircase, but Gabriel marched forward anyway. Even with his arms full carrying Castiel, he exuded thunderous intent, and the demons ended up backing away. The one with the angel blade nervously held his ground in the corridor, but Gabriel merely continued back the way they'd come toward the stairs leading up to the second floor. He remembered which room Castiel had been in before, where Lucifer should have returned him to. But Luci had never cared about Castiel. Like with everyone, Castiel had just been a means to an end.

Part of Gabriel wanted to snap right then, to turn on the demons and rip them apart with his bare hands. But he couldn't risk one of them getting to Castiel while he was fighting, since Gabriel couldn't smite them all with a massive outpouring of grace. It was too dangerous to make a move now. Unfortunately, that level of risk would only increase once Lucifer returned to carry out his threat against the younger angel.

Gabriel could feel the demons keeping their distance, yet following warily until he'd reached the door on the second floor and pushed his way inside. It wasn't currently locked, and he didn't know if the demons knew how to engage it, or if a guard would be set up outside. He probably had a better chance getting back out without the door being magically spelled, but Castiel was in no shape to make a second escape attempt. Not to mention Gabriel had to figure out how to get past Cujo so they didn't have a repeat performance of 'doggy and his new favorite chew toy'.

Gabriel gently laid Castiel on the bed, then wrapped both hands around one of the shackles and snapped it in two. He did the same with the other, and threw the chains angrily on the floor. Cas's wrists had been rubbed raw from all the shaking. And he was still shivering.

Gabriel laid a hand across Castiel's brow and tried to infuse some of his grace into the younger angel. Almost immediately, a headache spiked behind his eyes, and his stomach lurched with queasiness. Gabriel sank to his knees on the floor and dropped his forehead onto the mattress.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," he whispered. He would risk more, if he didn't need to stay alert and capable of defending them both should the demons decide to act or Lucifer returned.

Frustration and despair were like physical chains added to his manacles, and Gabriel was tempted to let them drag him down to the floor. But he couldn't. Pushing himself up, he went into the bathroom for first aid supplies, and then set about cleaning and bandaging Castiel's wrists. He checked the other wounds, which were still awful to look at, but at least hadn't reopened, nor did they show signs of infection. Gabriel added more medicine just in case, and then he tugged the bedspread down to throw over Castiel.

The archangel climbed onto the bed next to his brother, settling his back against the headboard and pulling Castiel slightly against him. "You mention to anyone I played personal blanky, and I'll turn you into a chipmunk," he grumbled.

Castiel trembled, and Gabriel tightened his arms around him. He couldn't grant his brother healing, but maybe he could offer some relief. Gabriel reached out with his grace to tenderly brush against Castiel's, as small and frail as it was. The contact seemed to work, though, for Castiel unconsciously curled into his older brother's embrace. His shivering gradually eased, and Gabriel sensed Cas settling into a more restful sleep.

Gabriel almost relaxed too, except he was still fully aware of the guillotine hanging over their heads.

* * *

 **A/N: Only one more chapter after this. ^_^**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

 _"I sought my soul, but my soul I could not see. I sought my God, but my God eluded me. I sought my brother and I found all three."  
_ _– Unknown_

* * *

Gabriel jerked awake as something knocked against his ribs. He couldn't believe he'd nodded off again. There was no sign of Lucifer, and Castiel was just coming around, so Gabriel quickly extricated himself from his little brother before either of them had to feel awkward about 'cuddling.'

"Gabriel?" Castiel blinked blearily at him, then warily at their surroundings. "Are we both dead, or…?"

Gabriel snorted. "Unfortunately, we're still the honored guests of our dickhead brother."

Castiel's brow furrowed, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows. "But you're alive." The note of utter relief in his tone actually touched Gabriel, and he sat back down on the edge of the mattress.

"Gonna take more than a pup to kill me."

Castiel's expression darkened with remembered horror. "I thought…with the hellhound saliva…"

Gabriel couldn't contain a wince. It had been a close call. But he plastered on a cheeky grin for his younger brother. "Like I said, gonna take more than that to keep the Trickster down."

"And, Lucifer…" Castiel slowly roved his gaze around the room again. "He was…angry."

Gabriel clenched a fist. "You're talking about your little stay in the cellar? Luci's gonna have to throw me down there too if he wants to send you back, the lying prick."

Castiel looked stunned for a moment, gaze drifting to his bandaged wrists. "You...came and got me?"

"'Course I did." Sheesh, after everything, Castiel still doubted him?

"Thank you," came the murmured response.

Gabriel's shoulders slumped. "Don't thank me yet. Our little escape attempt not only revealed dear Lucifer's true colors, but made things worse. He wants you to help him find Sam Winchester, and if you refuse…"

Castiel lifted his chin defiantly, even as a flicker of fear flashed in his eyes. "I'll die first."

"I would prefer if you _wouldn't_." Gabriel rolled his eyes and surged to his feet. "We need to get out of here. Or at least you do. But climbing out the window ain't gonna work a second time." He began to pace the length of the room. "If only I could get these damn cuffs off."

Castiel scooted to the edge of the bed. "I…I could try to pick the lock."

Gabriel paused mid-stride to throw his brother an incredulous look.

Castiel shrugged almost self-consciously. "Dean insisted I learn. I thought it pointless…though now I see I was mistaken."

Gabriel gaped at him. "You didn't think to mention this during our last escape?" he nearly yelled, only remembering at the last moment to keep his voice down.

Castiel frowned. "You didn't say anything about getting the cuffs off then, only that we had to leave in a hurry."

Gabriel smacked a palm over his face. Okay, fine, he _had_ dragged Castiel from bed, half-asleep, so he wouldn't throttle the kid now for not thinking more clearly at the time. But jeez, that could've saved them a world of hurt.

"You think you can pick these now?" Gabriel checked.

Castiel rolled his shoulder. "I…I can try. I wasn't very good and Dean eventually lost patience trying to teach me. I understand the general principle, though."

"Well, we have time." Sort of. Lucifer had charged Gabriel with convincing Cas to cooperate, which meant the Devil needed to at least give Gabriel a chance. The question was how long did he have before Lucifer brought out the dog leashes?

"I don't have any lock picks," Castiel spoke up.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Improvise." He strode to the balcony, which had not been re-sigiled, probably because Lucifer had no intention of using the room anymore. Gabriel didn't plan on scaling the trellis again, though, not with Cujo lurking around somewhere down there. He did pick up the rusty nail from before, and brought it back to Castiel. Then he hit the bathroom and came back out with a bobby pin he'd found in one of the drawers.

Sitting on the bed, Gabriel held out one manacled wrist expectantly. "Show me what you got."

Castiel swallowed nervously, but set his focus to the lock and began fiddling with it, forehead creased with intense concentration. Gabriel hadn't been expecting a miracle, but he had to admit that as the minutes ticked by and Castiel continued to pick and poke at the lock with no success, Gabriel was growing anxious.

"Listen," he said. "When we get out of here, there's a message you need to deliver to the Winchesters."

"Why can't you deliver it?" Castiel replied without looking up from his task.

"We might get separated. I'll make sure you get to Sam and Dean, though, I promise."

Castiel paused in his work to skewer Gabriel with a sharp glare. "I'm not leaving without you."

Once again, Gabriel was oddly touched, but he shook off the sentimentality. "I appreciate the loyalty, kiddo, but someone may need to hold off the dogs." _Hopefully not actual dogs this time_. "And it's gonna be me, not you."

Castiel's eyes narrowed. "I can still fight…"

"Would you just shut up and listen?" Gabriel interrupted, and flicked a pointed look at the manacle. A muscle in Castiel's jaw ticked, but he returned to picking the lock.

"Look," Gabriel continued more gently. "This is important. Like, stop the Apocalypse important. _You_ need to get this information to the Winchesters, capisce?"

After a long moment, Castiel slowly nodded.

"Knew I could count on you. Okay, so there's a way to put Lucifer back in his box."

Castiel glanced up sharply, and Gabriel impatiently waved for him to focus back on the lock-picking.

"Not that it'll be easy. But Lucifer himself doesn't even know this—the key to the Cage is out there. Or keys, plural. Four keys—four _rings_. From the Horsemen."

Castiel looked up again in disbelief.

Gabriel nodded with a grin. "Yup. You get 'em all, you got the Cage. Can't say I'm betting on those boys…but, uh, I've been wrong before. And they'll have you."

A shadow of doubt flickered across Castiel's face, but he quickly hid it by ducking his gaze back to the handcuff.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Oh puhleeze. A minute ago you were adamant that you could fight, and now you're doubting yourself? Or do you doubt the dynamic duo as well?"

"Of course not," Castiel rejoined. "Sam and Dean are…"

"Right. Don't sell yourself short either, kiddo." Swallowing a sigh, Gabriel reached out and clapped Castiel's shoulder. "That bigger purpose you thought you had? I think so too. Maybe you gotta figure out how to do it without wings, but hey, Tweedledee and Tweedledum don't have feathers either."

Castiel's expression clouded with disappointment. "You won't be helping us?"

"What do you call me sharing state secrets?" he scoffed, only to cover up his growing unease. Gabriel had one goal here: get his little brother out safely. And if that meant he had to make the sacrificial play again…well, third time was the charm, right?

Castiel returned his focus to the lock, mouth set in a grim line. It tugged at Gabriel's heart, but he had to let the younger angel get used to the idea that Gabriel might not be around to help him.

Actually, at this rate, neither of them would be around to send Lucifer packing back to the Pit. More likely the Devil would send them there first. Gabriel tried not to let his impatience show, only because it seemed to have bothered Castiel when he mentioned the eldest Winchester getting frustrated with his lack of progress in lock-picking 101. Gabriel started trying to come up with a Plan B when a small click broke the silence, and the heavy weight around his wrist suddenly fell off.

Both angels stared at the released manacle for a moment before Gabriel burst into a wide grin. "Attaboy!" The archangel flared his grace, energy coursing through his wings as he flexed them. There was still the second cuff, but being able to move just a fraction more than a moment ago felt like being able to do a jumping jack after getting out of a straitjacket.

Gabriel held out his other hand, anticipation making him jittery. Damn, he wanted to spread his wings fully and fly them both the hell outta there. Too bad one success didn't make Castiel a pro, and the younger angel was once again struggling to repeat the process with the second cuff. Then it all went to hell when the door handle cranked and the door flew open.

Both Gabriel and Cas jumped in surprise, and Gabriel quickly thrust his freed arm behind his back. He used the other to slap the nail and bobby pin from Castiel's hands and swept them under the bedspread as Lucifer stormed in. The Devil's eyes crackled with menace as his gaze landed first on Castiel, then Gabriel.

"I hear you've been taking liberties, brother," Lucifer said icily.

Gabriel shrugged glibly. "What's the point in being friend to the king if you can't take advantage of some perks?"

Lucifer regarded them for a long moment. "And are you? Friend to the king?"

Gabriel's jaw tightened. He was about to step out on thin ice, and didn't have the ace up his sleeve like he'd been hoping. "I'd like to think so. Though, sometimes being a friend means telling hard truths."

"Hm," Lucifer hummed, finally moving his focus to Castiel. "Have you shared some 'hard truths' with our dear brother?"

Gabriel felt Cas shift nervously beside him, and surreptitiously reached out to give the younger angel's arm a reassuring squeeze. Gabriel then slowly rose to his feet, careful to keep the one hand out of sight. He didn't have full access to his juice with one cuff still binding him, but he had some. And it just might be enough.

"Lucifer, if you care about _our_ relationship at all, you'll leave Castiel out of this."

The Devil took a minatory step forward, the threat clear in his stance. "He placed himself in the middle when he sided with the Winchesters." Lucifer trained his gaze on the lesser angel. "I'm giving you a choice here, Castiel. If you stand between me and Sam Winchester, I can't be responsible for your fate."

Castiel shook his head. "I won't betray the Winchesters."

Lucifer let out a long sigh. "Very well." He raised a hand, poised to snap his fingers.

"Wait!" Gabriel shouted, giving his older brother a pleading look. "Just wait."

Lucifer arched a brow as though to say 'be my guest.'

Gabriel turned to face Cas, who was eyeing him with a pinched expression. "Remember what I told you," Gabriel said, voice low with meaning and barely concealed emotion.

"Gabriel…"

"You'll be okay. No matter what happens." Gabriel had to believe that. He lifted his freed arm and placed two fingers to his brother's forehead, and _pushed_. The flare of grace hurt, but nevertheless propelled Castiel into the ether, carried by the first fervent prayer Gabriel had made in over a millennium. _Please see him safely home_.

Castiel's echoed protest faded, drowned out by Lucifer's enraged snarl as the archangel lunged forward and grabbed Gabriel by the front of his shirt.

"You _traitorous—_ "

Gabriel shoved him off, half his strength returned, even if he was still disadvantaged against the Devil. "You're the traitor, Lucifer! Using Castiel to manipulate me?" He barked out a bitter laugh. "But you never thought I'd sacrifice myself to save him, did you? Because you don't understand what it means to be a brother anymore."

Lucifer stormed forward. "Save him? Give me a break, Gabriel. In Castiel's state, he's a sitting duck out there. Vulnerable to angels and demons alike. Where did you send him?"

Gabriel shook his head. "Sorry, no can do." He just hoped the kid would find his way to the Winchesters soon. Either way, Gabriel wasn't letting Lucifer anywhere near their little brother, _ever again_.

Lucifer lifted a hand, and in a blink it held a glinting angel blade. "I'm warning you, Gabriel…"

He spread his arms and waggled his brows. "Let's tango."

Gabriel charged first, even though he was weaponless. But this time he was actually counting on his brother's temper and reflexes. Lucifer arced his blade around and down, and Gabriel threw up his arm into the blade's path. Metal collided with metal in a shower of sparks as Lucifer's angel blade cracked the remaining sigiled cuff.

Gabriel spun away, wrenching the manacle off and throwing it on the floor before clutching at his bleeding wrist where blade had also nicked flesh. Bluish-white light pulsed between his fingers. Lucifer's nostrils flared, and in barely a second, he'd flapped his wings with a gust and plowed into Gabriel. The Trickster tried to twist away, and the two archangels slammed into one of the bookcases, scattering paperbacks across the floor. White-hot agony pierced Gabriel's abdomen, and he sucked in a harsh gasp, glancing down to find his brother's blade buried in his stomach. Wasn't this familiar…

Lucifer grasped a fistful of Gabriel's collar with his other hand, bringing their faces inches from each other. "Why?" he seethed.

"You were right," Gabriel choked out. "About where my heart lies." His fingers clutched at Lucifer's sleeve. "With you. Always with you." Blood bubbled up in his throat with a coppery tang. "Which is why I can't watch you become this. Can't watch you torture _our_ brother, or destroy this world." Tears pricked at the corners of Gabriel's eyes. "And it's why I can't kill you, either. I can't kill the Morningstar."

His lips quirked upward at the memories stirred by the nickname. It'd been a joke between them, once upon a time. When the sun rose over a newly-created earth, it was still Lucifer who'd shone the brightest. And Gabriel had loved him. Oh, how he'd loved him.

Lucifer's eyes glistened darkly as he hovered over Gabriel, the angel blade still embedded in the younger archangel's stomach.

Gabriel coughed, which sent searing pain lancing through him. "Just do it," he ground out. It'd be easier this way; he wouldn't have to watch anymore people he loved die.

Lucifer was shaking, or perhaps that was just Gabriel as his lifeblood dribbled out along the edge of the blade and onto the carpet. He may have been the Trickster, but he was fairly certain he'd used up all of his nine lives.

The blade shifted, agony firing along his nerves anew, but instead of the world exploding in a supernova, Lucifer pulled the blade out and stepped back. Gabriel staggered, yet still managed to stay upright. Blinking past white spots, he stared incredulously at his older brother.

Lucifer's expression was somber and…old. Wearied. The archangel waved his hand, and Gabriel felt the Enochian sigils marked around this part of the mansion vanish. He still didn't know what was going on, but then Lucifer turned his head away, shoulders heavy with something like resignation. Gabriel decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and with one final exertion of strength, spread his wings and leaped.

* * *

 _A door slammed open, followed by pounding footsteps and raucous voices. "Bobby! Where is he?"_

 _"In here," the older hunter groused back._

 _Dean and Sam barreled through the foyer into the living room, stopping short as they spotted Castiel sitting on the couch, a blanket draped across his shoulders. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes, yet his posture perked up ever so slightly at the Winchesters' arrival._

 _"Cas!" Dean surged forward first. "We thought you were dead. Where the hell have you been?"_

 _"It's a long story," the angel replied gravely._

 _Sam looked him over worriedly, and then slowly sat down next to him on the sofa. "Are you okay?"_

 _"I…" His cheeks colored with shame and he looked away. "You could say my batteries are…are drained."_

 _Dean blinked. "What? You're out of angel mojo?"_

 _Castiel didn't answer, and Sam placed a hand on his shoulder._

 _"What happened, Cas?"_

Kali stepped in front of the mirror, mouth pursed in a thoughtful moue. "I don't see how you consider this a victory, Gabriel."

He propped himself up on the king-size bed he was currently lounging on, in the vacation house in Tahiti. It felt strange for Kali to call him by his real name, while at the same time sent an arousing thrill through him. Too bad he wasn't in any shape for that kind of activity. Gabriel grimaced, settling a hand over his bandaged stomach. "Shh and wait for the good part."

Kali rolled her eyes, but sauntered back over to the bed and climbed up behind him. Long fingers pinched the back of his neck before furling into fists and kneading at the knots in his muscles. Gabriel relaxed into her touch.

 _"Gabriel?" Dean said in disbelief. "Where is he now?"_

 _Castiel dropped his gaze to the floor. "I don't know. He…he stayed behind to hold off Lucifer while I…"_

 _"So he's probably dead," Dean muttered._

 _Sam shot his brother a bitch-face._

 _"I don't understand why he did that," Castiel said in a soft voice._

 _Sam squeezed his shoulder and smiled sadly. "Because he's your brother."_

"Are you sure they're talking about you?" Kali crooned in his ear.

Gabriel placed his hand over his heart. "You wound me, you know that?"

She gave him a simpering pout before pressing her lips to his bare shoulder. Gabriel tried to focus on the mirror, though Kali was making it quite difficult.

 _"All we need is Pestilence and Death," Dean was saying._

 _Sam snorted. "Oh, is that all?"_

 _Dean shrugged. "It's a plan." He looked to Cas and Bobby to back him up. Neither looked very enthused, though._

 _Castiel cleared his throat. "I'm not sure how much help I'll be, but I'll do everything I can."_

 _"Sure," Dean replied casually. "Just like any of us."_

 _Sam eyed Castiel contemplatively. "Hey, we're just glad to have you back, man. And if you need help getting used to this…human thing, we're here for you."_

 _Castiel gaped at the younger Winchester owlishly. "Without my powers…"_

 _"It'll be okay, Cas," Sam assured him. "That's not the most important thing here." He shot Dean a pointed look._

 _Dean frowned, apparently taking a minute to catch on._

"Always were the slow one, weren't you," Gabriel muttered.

Kali draped an arm across his chest. "Are you done yet?"

Ohhh, she was doing that thing with her tongue again. "In a minute."

 _"Yeah, man," Dean said, clapping Castiel on the shoulder. "You're frickin'_ alive _. Hey, if you're human now, you gotta eat, right? I'll throw on some burgers and we can spitball how we're gonna gank Pestilence."_

Gabriel watched the Winchesters usher a confused and taken aback Castiel into the kitchen where Dean set about puttering through the refrigerator and Sam started fussing over the wounds he discovered Castiel was concealing.

Gabriel waved his arm, and the image in the mirror shimmered before returning to a normal reflection of the bedroom. _Yeah, you'll be okay, kiddo_.

Kali pressed her body along the curve of his own. "Took you long enough."

"Hey, be gentle with the goods, darlin', I just got stabbed."

"You seem to make a habit of that," she purred in his ear.

He shifted to face her, reaching up to cup the side of her head. "I must be a glutton for punishment."

She stole a kiss before her expression turned serious. "What are we doing, Gabriel? I'm not ready to lie down and let the Judeo-Christian religion destroy this world."

He stroked her arm. "Eh, have a little faith. I think we've got more bang for our buck than you think." Gabriel would keep an eye on things, too. But in the meantime, he'd definitely earned a vacation.

* * *

 **A/N: And that's all, folks! It's been a blast with BAMF!Gabriel, and thank you everyone for coming along for this ride. My next story is an AU of 5x18, "Point of No Return" and will be an ANGST fest with major Cas!whump. Hope to see you there! ^_^**


End file.
